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THE FORMS 



OF 



PUBLIC ADDRESS 



EDITED BY 



GEORGE P. BAKER 

Assistant-Professor of English in Harvard University 




NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT .AND COMPANY 

1904 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

DEC 5J0 1904 

Oopyriehi tntry 

CUSS CL^ XXc, Noi 

COPY B. 







7 




Copyright, 190+ 

BY 

HENRY HOLT & COMPANY 



PREFACE. 

To Mr. R. L. Lyman, Instructor in Harvard University,. 
I owe invaluable aid in preparing the notes to this book. I 
wish to thank also Professor A. B. Hart for some details of 
these notes. To Professor H. B. Huntington, of Brown 
University, I owe helpful suggestion and comment when we 
used the material together at Harvard. In preparing copy 
for the press I have been greatly assisted by Miss Loraine 
P. Bucklin. Finally, I keenly appreciate the ready courtesy 
of the publishers and the authors without whose consent 
the greater part of this book could not have been reprinted. 

G. P. B. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Introduction ix 

LETTERS PRIVATE AND OPEN. 

To J. G. Blaine, Declining to be a Candidate for Nomi- 
nation TO the Presidency .... W. T. Sherman, 3 

To General McClellan, Plan of Campaign 

Abraham Lincoln, 6 
"President Lincoln, The Prayer of Twenty Millions, 

Horace Greeley, 7 
To Horace Greeley, in reply . . . Abraham Lincoln, 14 
To General Hooker, Placing him in Command of Army 

of Potomac Abraham Lincoln, 16 

To THE Earl of Chesterfield, Patrons and Patronage, 

Samuel Johnson, 19 
To William Winter, The Burial of Edwin Booth . . 

T. B. Aldrich, 22 
To THE Emperor Napoleon III, Pardon for Victor Hugo, 

Mrs. E. B. Browning, 23 
To M. Felix Faure, President of the Republic, The 

Dreyfus Case Emile Zola, 25 

To C. F. Adams, On English Recognition of the Confed- 
erate Government W. H. Seward, 41 

Memorandum upon the Appeal of Admiral Schley . . 

Theodore Roosevelt, 50 

EDITORIALS. 

The Rajahs of Sarawak The Spectator, 69 

The Commission of Exchange The N'ation, 69 

President Roosevelt on Community of Interest . . , 

The Nation, 71 

Train's Troubles . Charles T. Congdon, A^.F. Tribune, 72 

Friar Tuck Legislation, W. C. Bryant, A^.F. Evening Post, 74 

V 



vi Contents. 

PAGE 

Herreshoff's Achievement The Nation, 76 

The Isthmian Canal The Independent, 79 

Revelations in South Africa The Speaker, 82 

The Proposed Liverpool University , Liverpool Mercury, 87 

Concerning the Race Problem, .... Boston Herald, 91 
Twelve Little Dirty Questions . Charles T. Congdon, 

N.Y. Tribune, 95 
Northern Independence .... Charles T. Congdon, 

N.Y. Tribune, 99 

John Addington Symonds . . . W. M. Payne, The Dial, 103 

Mr. PIorace Greeley, E. L. Godkin, N . Y. Evening Post, 107 

The Odium Philologicum, E. L. Godkin, N.Y. Evening Post, 113 

The Critic and his Task . . , . W. M. Payne, The Dial, 118 

THE EULOGY, 

Nomination of U. S. Grant .... Roscoe Conkling, 125 
The Life and Character of James Abram Garfield . . 

J. G. Blaine, 130 

ToussAiNT L'Ouverture Wendell Phillips, 156 

COMMEMORATIVE ADDRESSES. 

Heroes of the Civil War .... Charles W. Eliot, 183 

The Fourth of July Phillips Brooks, 185 

Influence of Universities .... Grover Cleveland, 187 
Oration before the Grand Army Posts of Suffolk 

County John D. Long, 193 

DEDICATIONS. 

Gettysburg Address Abraham Lincoln, 207 

Address at the Opening of the Atlanta Exposition 

Booker T. Washington, 210 

SPEECH OF WELCOME. 

Speech of Welcome to Prince Henry of Prussia .... 

Charles W. Eliot, 221 

INAUGURALS. 

First Inaugural Address .... Abraham Lincoln, 227 

Vs^ECONP Inaugural Address .... Abraham Lincoln, 238 



Contents. vii 



SPEECHES OF FAREWELL. 

Speech to i66th Ohio Regiment . . Abraham Lincoln, 245 
Last Speech, at Charlestown, West "Va., John Brown, 247 

ADDRESSES FOR ACADEMIC OCCASIONS. 

The Scholar in a Republic . . . Wendell Phillips, 253 

The Leadership of Educated Men 

George William Curtis, 282 

ADDRESSES ON SOCIAL QUESTIONS. 

The Drama in America To-day . . . Norman Hapgood, 303 

The Child and the State David D. Field, 310 

Address at a Meeting in behalf of the Children's Aid 

Society Phillips Brooks, 319 

LEGISLATIVE ADDRESSES. 

Egypt and the Soudan Lord Salisbury, 333 

' General Amnesty Carl Schurz, 353 

POLITICAL ADDRESSES. 

On Repeal of the Union .... Daniel O'Connell, 387 
Address at the Democratic National Convention . . 

W. E. Russell, 398 

Secession Alexander H. Stephens, 401 

To THE Young Men of Italy E. Mazzini, 406 

AFTER DINNER SPEECHES. 

A Five Minute Address Rachel K. Fitz, 417 

Address at the Dinner of the Harvard Alumni . . . 

Booker T. Washington, 420 

Our Literature J. R. Lowell, 423 

Speech at Harvard Commencement Dinner 

W. F. Bartlett, 428 
The Puritan Principle : Liberty under the Law . , . 

G. W. Curtis, 430 



INTRODUCTION. 



(AN OPEN LETTER TO TEACHERS.) 

The very conditions of American life require that our 
educated youth shall be able to expound with clearness 
their business, financial, political, or even moral ideas or 
ideals. In nine cases out of ten, too, they will not merely 
print what they have to say, but first say it and then, perhaps, 
print it. Where, as compared with the numerous college 
courses in debating, oratory, or literary style, are the college 
courses in such public exposition ? There are some courses, 
it is true, especially in technical schools, which train their 
students to expound clearly a plan in engineering or some 
scientific discovery, but the courses in non-scientific and non- 
literary exposition are almost confined to debating and so- 
called oratory. But even in these, study of public discussion 
is too often not, as it should be, an end in itself, but merely a 
means to the end — winning a victory in an intercollegiate 
contest. It is, indeed, inevitable that as long as the present 
vogue of intercollegiate debating persists, college courses in 
debate cannot be wholly for training in discussion for the 
sake of determining the truth about mooted questions, but 
must conform somewhat to the arbitrary rules of committees 
which have made of intercollegiate debating a kind of intel- 
lectual sport. Similarly, interstate committees have laid down 
rules to govern the contests in oratory. The efficiency of 
such courses in debating or in oratory, the undergraduate 
judges — does not the graduate too ? — by the number of suc- 
cessful contestants it produces. 

ix 



X Introduction. 

Now, there is no denying that intercollegiate debating has 
been of very great assistance to those of us who are interested 
in teaching undergraduates to present their ideas orally to the 
general public with clearness and force, — to those of us who 
are interested in the forms of public discourse, — for intercol- 
legiate debating offers just that idea of tussle, wrestle and 
fight which appeals to a youth's imagination. At first it is, 
more than an3^thing else, the fight, the spirit of contest, the 
desire to show one's supremacy over someone else which in- 
terests. Later, students come to appreciate that to fight with 
success intellectually is possible only through knowledge of 
certain principles and the intelligent application of those prin- 
ciples under varying conditions. Recognition of these ideas 
sends them to a course in debating enthusiastic for the work ; 
or, if they have already begun systematic study of debating, 
when these ideas come to them through some interclass or 
intercollegiate debate, the recognition quickens them to stren- 
uous, persistent endeavor. 

But the widespread interest in intercollegiate debating and 
proper gratitude for what it has done to stimulate a study of 
the different forms of public discourse, have led undergrad- 
uates, graduates, and even teachers, I think, greatly to mis- 
emphasize its importance. After all, intercollegiate debating 
does not mean every kind of discussion, nor even every kind 
of debating ; it signifies a special kind of debating, guided by 
rules as definite as those of football, and determined in the 
same way — by conference of the powers. It is becoming 
more and more a highly developed special form of debate — 
an intellectual sport. Because of the excitement of the con- 
test, the prospective delight of a definite victory, the acclaim 
that greets the victors from undergraduates, graduates, and 
pictorial newspapers, and, worthiest reason of all, because the 
intercollegiate debate gives some students who love their 
alma mater their only opportunity to work publicly to increase 



Introduction. xi 

her honors, there seems to be a real danger that intercollegi- 
ate debating may become in many colleges the only form of 
public discourse seriously studied. Is not such an interest 
as this disproportionate, unsound, and unwise ? 

I have read many compositions submitted in oratorical 
contests. Only rarely have they even a spark of individual- 
ity, of freshness, of simple strength. Instead, they are conven- 
tional, artificial, empty, cheap. Clearly the contestants have 
studied files of "orations" successful in the past, and as 
closely as possible, copied them. Begin with platitudes, no 
matter how remote from the subject ; continue either with sen- 
tences which, crackling like a fusillade of musketry, might 
have come from any biographical dictionary, or with sentences 
of no more originality, but heavy with gew-gaws of speech ; in- 
dulge in closing fireworks, and there you are ! What can that 
kind of writing do but harm ? Intelligent audiences may con- 
siderately put up with this from callow youth, but what if cal- 
low youth try this kind of speaking on the same people when 
it wishes to push them, not whither they are willingly and 
rapidly moving, but whither they do not wish to go ? Then 
will come a sharp awakening ! Grant that the state repre- 
sentatives selected for the final contest may have more than 
I think to say and may say it better, yet the conditions 
of these contests are not like any the speakers will meet 
after graduation. Then audiences will listen to them pri- 
marily for what they have to say on their subjects, not, as here, 
primarily for the way in which they speak. Grant, too, that 
debate may be taught without regard for the rules of inter- 
collegiate debate, yet it is but a sub-division of a sub- 
division (oral discussion) of a large field for study (public ad- 
dress^). Surely other teachers must have had my experience, 

^ I shall use this term hereafter as meaning not only all work written 
for delivery, but also all writing at the public not literary or scientific in 
Eijim, for instance letters to the press or editorials, 



xii Introduction. 

that when only a course in debating — or in oratory if you 
prefer — exists in a college, some of its best students, after a 
few years outside college walls, write as follows : I find little 
use now for the special training in formal debate : of course, I 
do find helpful, as an aid to clear thinking in general, the prin- 
ciples which I was taught underlie fair-minded discussion. 
But, after all, I was not given what I most need. I have once 
or twice had, as member of a committee, to submit a report. 
It needed to be clearly, simply, and at the same time persua- 
sively drawn. I found much difficulty in adapting to this work 
the principles of strict argument. I have met similar difficul- 
ties with letters and editorials which I have written for news- 
papers. In both, formal argument was out of the question in 
my limited space. Mere statement of what seemed to me 
facts, was dry. How could I have written as I felt I should ? 
Or another says: I have been called upon repeatedly, as a man 
interested in the betterment of civic conditions, to speak at din- 
ners. I find such speaking slow torture, for I am not a wit, 
and I do not know how to speak seriously yet interestingly. 
Yet I am unwilling to take refuge in the speech so often 
heard, — a patchwork of good stories that are trite and new 
stories that are poor, all, new and old, inappositely introduced, 
Still a third writes : In my native town I was called upon on 
an occasion of local importance to make my neighbors un- 
derstand the significance of the life of a famous fellow- 
townsman of the past, but I was all at sea as to my task, and do 
not care to send you my speech. A fourth says : I am a col- 
lege instructor. One of my classes is large, and I must con- 
tend against the languor that pervades it after it has come 
directly to my lecture from its luncheon. Sometimes students 
at the back of the room find the pictorial morning papers more 
absorbing than my instruction. There is even leakage, for 
unfortunately some of the class are nearer the exits than I. 
Must I "popularize" my lectures ? That is, these graduates 



Introduction. xiii 

are meeting difficulties inherent in writing committee reports 
and concisely effective editorials or communications to the 
press, in after-dinner speaking, commemorative addresses, and 
lecturing. Surely, with all the wealth of illustration which the 
past offers, w^e can give these men some aid, and as surely we 
should in our college courses. We can keep them from writ- 
ing the average eulogy — a fulsomely phrased listing of the 
events of a man's life ; from writing the commemorative ad- 
dress so often heard — a mere compilation from current his- 
tories, phrased in language individual only in its tameness. 
We can help to train them to go back of facts, statistics, and 
conditions in order to find messages from the past to the 
present ; to reconcile seeming contradictions in lives of varied 
activities ; to try to make comprehensible men too often mis- 
understood. We can show them that even the after-dinner 
speech should have a central idea and plan, as well as fresh- 
ness and individuality of presentation. We can, perhaps, 
prevent them from falling into the too common fallacy of think- 
ing that to keep large bodies of students attentive the quality 
of the w^ork must be weakened, or extraneous attractions must 
be superimposed on good material. In all this a broad field 
opens out before us, ~a field of large consequence because, as 
I believe, for one man who applies from day to day the prin- 
ciples he learns especially for formal debating, five work in 
one or more of these other forms of public discourse. For 
these reasons I think that a course in the Forms of Public 
Address is for the larger number of undergraduates much 
more important than even the best course in formal debate, or 
in oratory as it is ordinarily understood. This book repre- 
sents an effort during the past five years to develop in Har- 
vard College a course which shall provide the training 
called for in these criticisms of old students of mine. 

Moreover, I believe that for a long time we teachers of 
English composition have over-emphasized phrase as com- 



xiv ^ Introduction. 

pared with thought. Probably there is not one of us who, 
after ten years or more of earnest teaching, has not felt 
baffled and humiliated at the relative barrenness of the re- 
sults. It is not easy to be content with " leavening the lump," 
with mere increase in the accurate use of shall and will and 
with good sentence structure, nor even with the few skilled 
writers who are the result of our training. One and all we 
must have felt that the majority of these youths who study 
with us the principles of literary style as applied in essay 
writing or in fiction have nothing to say. With nothing to 
say they mistake the sign for the content, and become enthu- 
siastic and often skillful phrase-makers. It is all ludicrously 
exemplified in the tale of a contestant for oratorical honors 
engaged in composing his magnum opus. From time to time 
he rushed into a room near his crying : " Say, I've got a 
new sentence, and it's a dandy, if only I can manage to work 
it in ! " Yet, though I have known a youth who had studied 
the rudiments of rhetoric to write wretchedly when forced, with 
no taste for literary composition, to narrate and describe, 
I have rarely found him writing wholly ill on a thesis sub- 
ject from a course in history, economics or philosophy on 
which he had thought with pleasure, because it really inter- 
ested him. There lies the clue : the fact is, much of our 
teaching in the higher courses in composition has been and 
always must be fitted to and beneficial to only the few with 
inborn literary desire or capacity. Between these and the 
great mass of undergraduates, for all of whom training in 
the rudiments of rhetoric is necessary, are a large number of 
youths not likely to be either scientific or literary men, but 
who in one way or another will probably be often called on 
to address their fellows. To these should be given at least 
the principles which will keep them from a pained sense of 
inadequate results after earnest labor. 

For purposes of such instruction, I believe there is no bet- 



Introduction. xv 

ter definition of style than Cardinal Newman's, " style is a 
thinking out into language." That puts the emphasis where 
it belongs, and where the undergraduate usually fails to put 
it, — on the man behind the wn^xng, and particularly on the 
content of his mind on the subject he treats. Create in your 
students an interest in thinking on subjects which come daily 
in their way, not in this case for purposes of hterary descrip- 
tion or narration, for essay writing, but that they may realize 
the chaotic condition of their own minds on current college 
topics, and grow increasingly unwilling to repeat parrot-like 
what they have heard others say or to make snap judgments. 
It is not really true that our students " have nothing to say ; " 
the trouble is that we have been trying to make of the most 
alert only literary men when they are intended for men of 
affairs, and that the rank and file in these days of manifold 
aids to thinking such as periodicals, compendia of all kinds, 
and tutors, have grown lazy and know nothing of the plea- 
sure that lies in swift, accurate thinking. It is just here that 
study of the forms of address is helpful, for by practice in the 
public letter, the editorial for a college paper, the after-din- 
ner speech on some college occasion, you may lead your non- 
literary student to the discovery, to him startling and delight- 
ful, that he has only to formulate carefully what is floating in 
his mind to have something worth saying to his mates. But 
if it is worth saying, it is worth saying well. That means, 
however, not merely expressing it so that any literary critic 
who may read his words will declare it correctly and grace- 
fully phrased, but what we teachers of composition too often 
forget, the greater part of persuasion, — the adjustment of 
the material to the probable moods, opinions, prejudices and 
principles of its audience. Wake the imagination of your 
students by training them to write not for themselves only 
or for the critical instructor, but for definitely described 
audiences to which they must adapt the presentation of their 



xvi Introduction. 

subjects. I have found students who have had not only a 
Freshman course in EngUsh but even a second year of work 
wholly unable to carry out satisfactorily the second of the 
following exercises. Excfelse i. In a letter to some mem- 
ber of your family, explain your reasons for preferring to 
room in or out of the college yard, as the case may be with 
you. This was well done. Exercise 2. Write to some 
friend of yours, in the summer vacation, urging him to room 
with you during the coming year. Think over his character- 
istics before you write and try in your letter so to present 
your plan as to make it as attractive to him as possible. 
This was a complete failure : most students merely stated 
why they like their rooms, hardly one looked at the plan 
through the eyes of his friend. Yet in that simple effort at 
persuasion lies the whole secret of persuasive public address. 
Granted an interest in thinking and in presenting ideas 
to other people, and you will not have to urge on a student the 
importance of a rich, varied, and responsive vocabulary or 
the value of all that courses in purely literary composition 
can teach him. When thought presses for utterance there 
needs no other spur to acquirement of the best means of ex- 
pression. 

Now, if all this be admitted, the first difficulty is that even 
students who have been roused to an interest in thinking 
for themselves and who have had a course in the elements 
of rhetoric, do not think clearly, strongly, and in orderly 
fashion. They may be able to write reports investigating 
subjects which have but one side or to treat topics in which 
the preponderance of the evidence is heavily one way, but to 
steer their course steadily, fair-mindedly, weighing accurately 
the pros and cons, from the superficial, popular under- 
standing of a college question to its real meaning • — that is 
utterly beyond their present powers. After some years of 
experimentation, I am convinced that students learn most 



Introduction. xvii 

quickly and lastingly the processes of analysis and structure 
necessary to good thinking in study of the principles of 
argumentation as applied in written work. I say " in 
written work " because that permits the closest and most 
accurate scrutiny by an instructor, and is free from the ner- 
vous conditions of speaking. In a semester, or three months, 
the principles of analysis, structure and evidence can be so 
drilled into students that the best will have a trained analyt- 
ical sense and a permanent feeling for structure, and all of 
the class will have gained something of both. While the' 
class is acquiring these ideas, it should, for simplicity, write 
without thought of any other audience than the instructor, 
that is, it should aim only to convince. The difficult art of 
persuasion may best be taken up when the fundamental 
principles just named have been mastered. I believe, too, 
that at the outset students should be urged to write on sub- 
jects depending on research rather than on personal experi- 
ence, for the first provide them with the material which they 
always insist they lack if set at once to writing on subjects 
drawn from their own experience. Moreover, the large mass 
of material easily to be collected on matters of research per- 
mits a wider training in evidence, and raises more compli- 
cated questions of structure and analysis. But the moment 
one is sure that the students understand these fundamental 
matters they should be pressed into consideration of topics 
from college or outside life with which they are familiar. 
Then, too, they are ready for study of the broader principles 
of persuasion, — first as applied to argument only. It is 
often helpful to let a student rewrite for a definitely described 
audience an argument at first composed only to convince the 
instructor of the truth of the position taken in it. These 
principles of analysis, structure, evidence, and persuasion 
grasped, a student is prepared to examine the non-forensic 
forms of address, those which I have tried to illustrate in 



xviii Introduction. 

this book. Personally I have found that the necessary an- 
alysis, structure, and evidence, can be taught between the first 
of October and Christmas, and persuasion in its broader 
aspects in three to four weeks after the second date. That 
makes it possible to devote the second half-year to study of 
the forms of address. As these are examined by a student, it 
must become clear that the principles of analysis and struc- 
ture first learned by him in written argument lie back of all 
these forms, that, indeed, good speaking cannot exist with- 
out, for analysis goes to the heart of the question and struc- 
ture presents it most compactly and clearly. Just, too, as 
analysis of an opponent's case gave in argumentation one 
or more central ideas as special issues, analysis of one of 
these addresses, even the longest, will develop one or more 
main ideas about which the whole speech is built up. Even 
as the student drew briefs for his arguments, he can draw 
outUnes of these addresses, and the outline will reveal that 
good structure with an eye to the audience in question had 
as much to do with the success of the address as of the 
argument. As to persuasion, — not only the mere excitation 
for which solely it too commonly stands in the public mind, 
but also every means by which the speaker has adapted his 
material to his particular audience, — that is illustrated at every 
turn in these other forms of address. In brief, the chief differ- 
ence between the forensic and the non-forensic forms of public 
address is that structure in the latter is less rigid and persua- 
sion preponderates over conviction. Surely, as study of these 
other forms is finished, a student must see that debating is 
but a highly specialized form of the subdivision, the forensic 
address, and that consequently it should end, not begin, as 
it too often does, his training in public discourse. 

Throughout all this examination of the forms of address 
the purpose should of course be, not to point out graces of 
style, bursts of eloquence, vivid narration and description. 



Introduction. xlx 

but the conditions which gave rise to the speech, the possible 
subjects the speaker might have chosen, his probable reasons 
for selecting his topic, his plan in treating it, and the extent 
to which his audience affected his presentation. Indeed, the 
audience addressed must always be carefully considered, for it 
will probably reveal not only why the speaker presented his 
subject as he did, but also his reason for selecting his topic, 
for his plan, and for his direct attempts at persuasion. 
Granted this work done, let us study graces of style, excitation, 
fine passages to our hearts' content, but let us not in studying 
these skim the surface, losing the real significance and con- 
tribution of the address. Critical study of the specimens in 
this book under wise guidance should make a student see 
that his motto in composition should be, not Phrase, not 
Phrasi?ig 7ny TJiought, but Thought adequately phrased. That 
is what I wish this book most to emphasize : that the public 
address which not only produces results at the moment but has 
permanent value rests primarily on thought ; commanding and 
holding attention, not for external graces given it by the 
speaker's manner or phrasing, but because it has something 
new to say, or, more often, because, though it says nothing 
absolutely new, it shows the reaction of an individual mind on 
the material. Given thought, a speech must be very badly 
delivered not to have some effect ; given only excitation, or 
only persuasive presentation of trite ideas, or no ideas at all, 
and only those who follow the speaker in blind enthusiasm for 
him, or those who are unwilling to believe other ideas than 
his will be lastingly affected. Ideal public address means, 
then, significant thought presented with all the clearness 
that perfect structure can give, all the force that skillful sift- 
ing of the material can produce, all the persuasiveness that 
perfect understanding of the relation of the audience to 
speaker and subject can give, with vivid narration and de- 
scription, a graceful style, and an attractive personality. 



XX Introduction. 

Too often public speakers, moving from the last of these 
qualities toward the first, stop much short of that first one. 
Yet to stop short is to stand the pyramid on its apex, for in the 
busy world of affairs in which most of our students will live 
they, even more than the orators, will be judged by what 
they have to contribute, not by the manner in which they 
contribute. 

The use of this book must vary much as it makes part of 
a course based chiefly on the lecture or the recitation method. 
Whichever method is used, however, the private letter should, 
I think, be taken as the norm for instruction in the non- argu- 
mentative forms of public address, for it is aimed directly at 
one distinct person. It may be shown that even its force 
depends on the principles of analysis, structure, evidence 
and persuasion explained first in connection with argumen- 
tation ; that it has infinite variety, and may lead easily into 
all the other forms. Of course, the public letter naturally 
comes next, differing only in being addressed to many peo- 
ple, whose characteristics are not so easily ascertainable as 
with the one reader of the private letter. The public let- 
ter, too, easily runs into the other forms, as for instance 
with the Memorandum of President Roosevelt on the Schley 
case, which is also an argument. Supposed editorial com- 
ment on one of these public letters readily takes a student 
into the editorial ; and the memorial leader with its biograph- 
ical detail carries him into the eulogy. Beyond this, I think 
the order used in examining the forms should rest with the 
teacher, for all except the private and the public letter and 
the editorial are not so much distinct forms as differentiations 
of the address for a special occasion, the audience and the 
occasion determining the differentiation. As each section of 
the book is taken up, the chief characteristics of the form il- 
lustrated should be put before the class : the notes in fine 
type on the reverse of each half-title are intended as hints 



Introduction. xxi 

for the teacher in this treatment of each section, but it has 
seemed to me wholly unwise to try completely to anticipate his 
work at this point. Doubtless the lecture is the easiest way 
of placing such information before a class, but I much doubt 
if skillful quizzing of its members, summed up in the last fif- 
teen minutes of the hour, will not impress the ideas more 
firmly. In brief, make the students discover in their reading 
as much as you can : keep them not merely listening but 
thinking. Where an occasional lecture may do much is in 
amplifying the necessarily brief prefatory matter which pre- 
cedes each selection. It has seemed to me that each teacher 
would prefer to decide for himself how much detail as to the 
life of the speaker he wished his class to have, and whatever 
he may need is in these days of many biographical diction- 
aries easily accessible. The class should be required to read 
the selections carefully, and should be examined on their 
reading either by a quiz or by written exercises such as those 
suggested in the Appendix. It should be given an oppor- 
tunity in or out of the class-room to try its hand at as many of 
the forms as circumstances will permit. Time has forced 
me to confine work in the two kinds of letters, the edito- 
rial, and the after-dinner speech to the class-room, to require 
a eulogy written outside, and to allow the class for its last 
long MS. to write at will on any of the forms it has not already 
tried. I believe in this emphasis on the forms treated in the 
class-room because in them the principles to be carried out 
in the other forms may be conveniently illustrated, but espe- 
cially because these forms seem most real to the under-gradu- 
ate, most likely to play some part in his immediate experience. 
Indeed, in all this study of the non-argumentative forms, the 
student should be induced as far as possible to choose such 
topics as he may be called on as an under-graduate or in 
his home conditions to discuss. Above all, the aim is not to 
train students to write like any of the men whose work is 



xxii Introduction. 

illustrated in this book, but to think well on subjects which 
interest them and which may also have public interest if 
well presented. The exercises in the Appendix give some 
hints as to possible subjects.^ 

The secret of public address to-day is then : Have some- 
thing to say ; something you wish to say ; something you wish 
to say so that those who hear you shall understand, and act 
as you desire. Of course, it would be folly to expect from 
collegians special addresses of real contributiveness ; that 
may, however, come later when years have given ample op- 
portunity to apply the principles which they have learned in 
such a course. But these collegians can be given right 
standards ; they can, too, be taught to select from their own 
experience or wide reading that aspect of a current topic 
which will most interest the audience they have in mind or 
which they are best fitted to present to that audience ; to plan 
the presentation of it well ; and even to make the product 
reflect in thought or phrase the individual behind it. De- 
partments of English in our colleges must wake to the fact 
that m their too frequent neglect of the oral word as con- 

^ It may be suggestive to give the order and the nature of the work 
in the course at Harvard in which the material of this book has been 
used, though different conditions must necessarily affect both. The 
class meets three times a week throughout the college year. Besides 
the class-room work, each stxident draws at least two briefs and writes 
five manuscripts of 1,000-1,500 words. Two of these are arguments. 
For the third manuscript the second argument is re-written for a defi- 
nitely described audience. In the choice of topics for the other two 
manuscripts and in the treatment of them students are allowed con- 
siderable freedom, but they are expected to give themselves practice in 
the eulogy, and the address for a special occasion. Between October and 
Christmas TJie Principles of Argumentation (Revised edition, 1904, 
Ginn & Co.) is used with, for illustrative material. Specimens of Argu- 
mentation (Modern, 1893, H. Holt & Co.). For persuasion, between 
Christmas and February both these books and The Forms of Address 
are used, during the second half-year only the last book is needed. 



Introduction. xxlii 

trasted with the written they lack foresight for their pupils. 
In regarding the oral word as if it could concern only that 
much and underservedly abused subject, Elocution, they for- 
get that for one man who only writes for the pubHc, dozens 
will speak to it, and that in these days when newspapers and 
periodicals repeat for millions what was said originally to 
tens, the written and the oral word are one and the same 
thing for most who work in the forms of public address. 
Should not this hiatus in our college courses in composition 
be promptly filled ? 

Geo. p. Baker. 

Harvard University, Sept. 24, 1904. 



LETTERS 
PRIVATE AND OPEN 



Letters I, II, and III b illustrate clear statement of questions either 
in themselves involved, or complicated by excited feeling on the part of, 
at least, one of the correspondents. In Letters IV and V there is not 
only a similar clearness, but persuasion appears in the pervasive irony. 
Letter VI tries only to convey an emotional state of the writer: Letters 
VII, and VIII, on the other hand, use emotion to induce an attitude 
of mind in the reader. Letter IX shows how excision of a few words or 
phrases in a long document may completely change its emotional effect. 
Letter III a shows how slight, often, is the difference between an open 
letter and an editorial. Letter X illustrates not only clearness of state- 
ment, in its masterly review of a case complicated by contradictory 
evidence and personal jealousy, but also the close relationship there 
may be between the open letter and an argument before a jury. 



W. T. SHERMAN 1 

Declining to be a Candidate for Nomination to 
the Presidency. 

[The following letter of Mr. Blaine's explains the cause for General 
Sherman's letter : — 

{Conjidential .) 
Strictly and absolutely so. 
5 Washington, D.C, May 25, 1884. 

My dear General : This letter requires no answer. After reading 
it carefully, file it away in your most secret drawer, or give it to the flames. 
At the approaching convention in Chicago, it is more than possible 
— it is indeed not improbable — that you may be nominated for the 
10 presidency. If so you must stand your hand, accept the responsibility, 
and assume the duties of the place to which you wall surely be chosen, 
if a candidate. You must not look upon it as the work of the politi- 
cians. If it comes to you, it will come as the ground-sw^ell of popular 
demand — and you can no more refuse than you could have refused to 
15 obey an order w^hen you were a lieutenant in the army. If it comes to 
you at all, it will come as a call of patriotism. It would, in such an 
event, injure your great fame as much to decline it as it would for you 
to seek it. Your historic record, full as it is, would be rendered still 
more glorious by such an administration as you would be able to give 
20 the country. Do not say a word in advance of the convention, no 
matter who may ask you. You are with your friends, who will jealously 
guard your honor. Do not answer this.] 

St. Louis, May 28, 1884. 
Hon. J. G. Blaine : 

25 My dear Friend: I have received your letter of the 

25th; shall construe it as absolutely confidential, not inti- 

1 By permission of C. C. Haskell & Co., successors to the Henry 
Bill Publishing Co., both letters are reprinted from the Biography of 
James G. Blaine^ by Gail Hamilton. 

3 



4 Letters. 

mating even to any member of my family that I have heard 
from you ; and though you may not expect an answer, I 
hope you will not construe one as unwarranted. I have had 
a great many letters from all points of the compass to a 
similar effect, one or two of which I have answered frankly ; 5 
but the great mass are unanswered. I ought not to subject 
myself to the cheap ridicule of declining what is not offered, 
but it is only fair to the many really able men who rightfully 
aspire to the high honor of being President of the United 
States to let them know that I am not and must not be con- 10 
strued as a rival. In every man's life there occurs an epoch 
when he must choose his own career, and when he may not 
throw the responsibility, or tamely place his destiny in the 
hands of friends. Mine occurred in Louisiana when, in 
1861, alone in the midst of a people blinded by supposed 15 
wrongs, I resolved to stand by the Union as long as a 
fragment of it survived to which to cling. Since then, 
through faction, tempest, war, and peace, my career has 
been all my family and friends could ask. We are now in a 
good home of our choice, with reasonable provision for old 20 
age, surrounded by kind and admiring friends, in a commu- 
nity where Catholicism is held in respect and veneration, 
and where my children will naturally grow up in contact 
with an industrious and frugal people. You have known 
and appreciated Mrs. Sherman from childhood, have also 25 
known each and all the members of my family, and can 
understand, without an explanation from me, how their 
thoughts and feelings should and ought to influence my 
action ; but I will not even throw off on them the respon- 
sibility. I will not, in any event, entertain or accept a 30 
nomination as a candidate for President by the Chicago 
Republican convention, or any other convention, for reasons 
personal to myself. I claim that the Civil war, in which I 
simply did a man's fair share of work, so perfectly accom- 
plished peace, that military men have an absolute right to 35 
rest, and to demand that the men who have been schooled 



W. T. Sherman. 5 

in the arts and practice of peace sliall now do their work 
equally w^ell. Any senator can step from his chair at the 
Capitol into the White House, and fulfil the office of Presi- 
dent with more skill and success than a Grant, Sherman, or 
5 Sheridan, who were soldiers by education and nature, who 
filled well their office when the country was in danger, but 
were not schooled in the practices by which civil communities 
are, and should be, governed. I claim that our experience 
since 1865 demonstrates the truth of this my proposition. 

10 Therefore I say that " patriotism " does not demand of me 
what I construe as a sacrifice of judgment, of inclination, 
and of self-interest. I have my personal affairs in a state of 
absolute safety and comfort. I owe no man a cent, have no 
expensive habits or tastes, envy no man his wealth or power, 

15 no complications or indirect liabilities, and would account 
myself a fool, a madman, an ass, to embark anew, at sixty- 
five years of age, in a career that may, at any moment, 
become tempest-tossed by the perfidy, the defalcation, the 
dishonesty, or neglect of any one of a hundred thousand 

20 subordinates utterly unknown to the President of the United 
States, not to say the eternal worriment by a vast host of 
impecunious friends and old military subordinates. Even as 
it is, I am tortured by the charitable appeals of poor dis- 
tressed pensioners, but as President, these would be multi- 

25 plied beyond human endurance. I remember well the ex- 
perience of Generals Jackson, Harrison, Tyler, Grant, Hayes, 
and Garfield, all elected because of their military services, 
and am warned, not encouraged, by their sad experience. 
No, — count m.e out. The civilians of the U. S. should, 

30 and must, buffet with this thankless office, and leave us old 
soldiers to enjoy the peace we fought for, and think we 
earned. With profound respect. 

Your friend, 

W. T. Sherman. 



6 Letters. 

II. 

PRESIDENT LINCOLN 

To General McClellan. 

[General McClellan had succeeded General Scott on November i, 
1861, as Commander-in-Chief (under the President) of all the armies 
of the United States. On January 31, 1862, the President had issued 
his " Special War Order No. i," directing a forward movement of the 
Army of the Potomac. This order conflicted with plans which McClel- 5 
Ian had formed, and he remonstrated. Little Masterpieces, Lincoln. 
B. Perry, p. 109.] 

Executive Mansion, Washington, 
February 3, 1862. 
Major-General McClellan : 10 

My dear Sir : You and I have distinct and different 
plans for a movement of the Army of the Potomac — yours 
to be down the Chesapeake, up the Rappahannock to 
Urbana, and across land to the terminus of the railroad on 
the York River ; mine to move directly to a point on the 1 5 
railroad southvi^est of Manassas. 

If you will give me satisfactory answers to the following 
questions, I shall gladly yield my plan to yours. 

First. Does not your plan involve a greatly larger expendi- 
ture of time and money than mine ? 20 

Second. Wherein is a victory more certain by your plan 
than mine ? 

Third. Wherein is a victory more valuable by your plan 
than mine ? 

Fourth. In fact, would it not be less valuable in this, that 25 
it would break no great line of the enemy's communications, 
while mine would ? 

Fifth. In case of disaster, would not a retreat be more 
difficult by your plan than mine ? 

Yours truly, 30 

Abraham Lincoln. 

Major-General McClellan. 



Horace Greeley. 7 

III a. 
HORACE GREELEY 
To President Lincoln. 

(Printed in the editorial columns of the A\ Y. Tribune of 
August 20, 1862.) 

[Military reverses had by August, 1862 "sharpened anew the under- 
lying prejudice and distrust between the two factions of [Lincoln's] 
supporters — radicals and conservatives, as they began to be called ; or, 
more properly speaking, those who were anxious to destroy and those 
5 who were wilUng to preserve slavery. Each faction loudly charged the 
other with being the cause of failure and clamored vehemently for a 
change of policy to conform to their own views. Outside of both was 
the important faction of those Democrats who either yielded the war 
only a sullen support or opposed it as openly as they safely might, and 

10 who, on the slavery issue, directed their denunciations wholly against 
the radicals. It may be truly said that at no time were political ques- 
tions so critical and embarrassing to Mr. Lincoln as during this period. 
His own decision had been reached ; his own course was clearly and 
unalterably marked out. [He had discussed with his Cabinet, July 22, 

15 the Emancipation Proclamation, but, following a suggestion of Secre- 
tary Seward, had laid it aside until some military success should offer 
a more propitious time for issuing it.] But the circumstances surround- 
ing him did not permit his making [his plans] known, and he was 
compelled to keep up an appearance of indecision which only brought 

20 upon him a greater flood of importunities. 

During no part of his administration were his acts and words so 
persistently misconstrued as in this interim by men who gave his words 
the color and meaning of their own eager desires and expectations. 
To interpret properly Mr. Lincoln's language it must be constantly 

25 borne in mind that its single object was to curb and restrain the im- 
patience of zealots from either faction. " Abraham Lhicoln, Nicolay & 
Hay, Century Co., VI., 148.] 

THE PRAYER OF TWENTY MILLIONS. 

To Abraham Lincoln, President of the U. States : 
Dear Sir : I do not intend to tell you — for you must 
30 know already — that a great proportion of those who tri- 



8 Letters. 

umphed in your election, and of all who desire the unquali- 
fied suppression of the Rebellion now desolating our country, 
are sorely disappointed and deeply pained by the policy you 
seem to be pursuing with regard to the slaves of Rebels. I 
write only to set succinctly and unmistakably before you 5 
what we require, what we think we have a right to expect, 
and of what we complain. 

I. We require of you, as the first servant of the Republic, 
charged especially and pre-eminently with this duty, that you 
execute the laws. Most emphatically do we demand that 10 
such laws as have been recently enacted, which therefore 
may fairly be presumed to embody the present will and to be 
dictated by the prese7it needs of the Republic, and which, 
after due consideration have received your personal sanc- 
tion, shall by you be carried into full effect, and that you 15 
publicly and decisively instruct your subordinates that such 
laws exist, that they are binding on all functionaries and 
citizens, and that they are to be obeyed to the letter. 

II. We think you are strangely and disastrously remiss in 
the discharge of your official and imperative duty with 20 
regard to the emancipating provisions of the new Confisca- 
tion Act. Those provisions were designed to fight Slavery 
with Liberty. They prescribe that men loyal to the Union, 
and willing to shed their blood in her behalf, shall no longer 
be held, with the Nation's consent, in bondage to persistent, 25 
malignant traitors, who for twenty years have been plotting 
and for sixteen months have been fighting to divide and 
destroy our country. Why these traitors should be treated 
with tenderness by you, to the prejudice of the dearest rights 

of loyal men, we cannot conceive. 30 

III. We think you are unduly influenced by the counsels, 
the representations, the menaces, of certain fossil politicians 
hailing from the Border Slave States. Knowing well that 
the heartily, unconditionally loyal portion of the White citi- 
zens of those States do not expect nor desire that Slavery 35 
shall be upheld to the prejudice of the Union — (for the 



Horace Greeley* 9 

truth of which we appeal not only to every Republican re- 
siding in those states, but to such eminent loyalists as H. 
Winter Davis, Parson Brownlow, the Union Central Com- 
mittee of Baltimore, and to the " Nashville Union " ) — we 

5 ask you to consider that Slavery is everywhere the uiciting 
cause and sustaining base of treason : the most slave-holding 
sections of Maryland and Delaware being this day, though 
under the Union flag, in full sympathy with the Rebellion, 
while the Free-Labor portions of Tennessee and of Texas, 

10 though writhing under the bloody heel of Treason, are un- 
conquerably loyal to the Union. So emphatically is this the 
case, that a most intelligent Union banker of Baltimore 
recently avowed his confident belief that a majority of the 
present Legislature of Maryland, though elected as and still 

15 professing to be Unionists, are at heart desirous of the tri- 
umph of the Jeff. Davis conspiracy; and when asked how 
they could be won back to loyalty, replied — "Only by the 
complete Abolition of Slaver}\" It seems to us the most 
obvious truth, that whatever strengthens or fortifies Slavery 

20 in the Border States strengthens also Treason, and drives 
home the wedge intended to divide the Union. Had you 
from the first refused to recognize in those States, as here, 
any other than unconditional loyalty — that which stands for 
the Union, whatever may become of Slavery — those States 

25 would have been, and would be, far more helpful and less 
troublesome to the defenders of the Union than they have 
been, or now are. 

IV. We think timid counsels in such a crisis calculated 
to prove perilous, and probably disastrous. It is the duty of 

30 a Government so wantonly, wickedly assailed by the Rebel- 
lion as ours has been to oppose force to force in a defiant, 
dauntless spirit. It cannot afford to temporize with traitors 
nor with semi-traitors. It must not bribe them to behave 
themselves, nor make them fair promises in the hope of dis- 

35 arming their causeless hostility. Representing a brave and 
high-spirited people, it can afford to forfeit anything else 



I o Letters. 

better than its own self-respect, or their admiring confidence. 
For our Government even to seek, after war has been made 
on it, to dispel the affected apprehensions of armed 
traitors that their cherished privileges may be assailed by it, 
is to invite insult and encourage hopes of its own downfall. 5 
The rush to arms of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, is the true an- 
swer at once to the Rebel raids of John Morgan, and the 
traitorous sophistries of Beriah Magoffin. 

v. We complain that the Union Cause has suffered, and 
is now suffering immensely, from mistaken-deference to Rebel 10 
Slavery. Had you. Sir, in your Inaugural Address,^ un- 
mistakably given notice that, in case the Rebellion already 
commenced were persisted in, and your efforts to preserve 
the Union and enforce the laws should be resisted by armed 
iorce, you would recognize no loyal person as rightfully held in 15 
Slavery by a traitor^ we believe the Rebellion would therein 
have received a staggering if not fatal blow. At that mo- 
ment, according to the returns of the most recent elec- 
tions, the Unionists were a large majority of the voters of 
the Slave States. But they were composed in good part of 20 
the aged, the feeble, the wealthy, the timid, — the young, the 
reckless, the aspiring, the adventurous, had already been 
lured by the gamblers and negro-traders, the politicians by 
trade and the conspirators by instinct, into the toils of 
Treason. Had you then proclaimed that Rebellion would 25 
strike the shackles from the slaves of every traitor, the 
wealthy and the cautious would have been supplied with a 
powerful inducement to remain loyal. As it was, every 
coward in the South soon became a traitor from fear; for 
Loyalty was perilous, while Treason seemed comparatively 30 
safe. Hence the boasted unanimity of the South — a unan- 
imity based on Rebel terrorism and the fact that immunity 
and safety were found on that side, danger and probable 
death on ours. The Rebels from the first have been eager 
to confiscate, imprison, scourge and kill : we have fought 35 
1 See p. 228. 



Horace Greeley. 1 1 

wolves with the devices of sheep. The result is just what 
might have been expected. Tens of thousands are fighting 
in the Rebel-ranks to-day whose original bias and natural 
leanings would have led them into ours. 

5 VI. We complain that the Confiscation Act which you 
approved is habitually disregarded by your Generals, and 
that no word of rebuke for them from you has yet reached 
the public ear. Fremont's proclamation and Hunter's Order 
favoring Emancipation were promptly annulled by you ; 

lo while Halleck's No. 3, forbidding fugitives from Slavery to 
Rebels to come within his lines — an order as unmilitary as 
inhuman, and which received the hearty approbation of every 
traitor in America, with scores of like tendency, have never 
provoked even your remonstrance. We complain that the 

15 officers of 3^our Armies have habitually repelled rather than 
invited the approach of slaves who would have gladly taken 
the risks of escaping from their Rebel masters to our 
camps, bringing intelligence often of inestimable value to the 
Union cause. We complain that those who have escaped to 

20 us, avowing a willingness to do for us whatever might be re- 
quired, have been brutally and madly repulsed, and often 
surrendered to be scourged, maimed and tortured by the 
ruffian traitors, who pretend to own them. We complain 
that a large proportion of our regular Army Officers, with 

25 many of the Volunteers, evince far more solicitude to uphold 
Slavery than to put down the Rebellion. And finally, we 
complain that you, Mr. President, elected as a Republican, 
knowing well what an abomination Slavery is, and how em- 
phatically it is the core and essence of this atrocious Re- 

30 bellion, seem never to interfere with these atrocities, and 
never give a direction to your Military subordinates which 
does not appear to have been conceived in the interest of 
Slavery rather than of Freedom. 

VII. Let me call your attention to the recent tragedy in 

35 New Orleans, whereof the facts are obtained entirely through 
Pro-Slavery channels. A considerable body of resolute, able- 



1 2 Letters. 

bodied men, held in slavery by two Rebel sugar-planters in 
defiance of the Confiscation Act which you have approved, 
left plantations thirty miles distant and made their way to 
the great mart of the South-West, which they knew to be in 
the undisputed possession of the Union forces. They made 5 
their way safely and quietly through thirty miles of Rebel 
territory, expecting to find freedom under the protection of 
our flag. Whether they had or had not heard of the pas- 
sage of the Confiscation Act, they reasoned logically that 
we would not kill them for deserting the service of their life- 10 
long oppressors, who had through treason become our im- 
placable enemies. They came to us for liberty and protec- 
tion, for which they were willing to render their best service : 
they met with hostility, captivity, and murder. The bark- 
ing of the base curs of Slavery in this quarter deceives no 15 
one, — not even themselves. They say, indeed, that the 
negroes had no right to appear in New Orleans armed (with 
their implements of daily labor in the cane-field) ; but no 
one doubts that they would gladly have laid these down if 
assured that they should be free. They were set upon and 20 
maimed, captured and killed, because they sought the bene- 
fit of that Act of Congress which they may not specifically 
have heard of, but which was none the less the law of the 
land — which they had a clear right to the benefit of — 
which it was somebody's duty to publish far and wide, in order 25 
that so many as possible should be impelled to desist from 
serving Rebels and the Rebellion and come over to the 
side of the Union. They sought their liberty in strict accor- 
dance with the law of the land — they were butchered or re- 
enslaved for so doing by the help of Union soldiers enlisted 30 
to fight against Slaveholding Treason. It was somebody's 
fault that they were so murdered — if others shall hereafter 
suffer in like manner, in default of explicit and pubHc direc- 
tion to your generals that they are to recognize and obey 
the Confiscation Act, the world will lay the blame on you. 35 
Whether you will choose to hear it through future History 
and at the bar of God, I will not judge. I can only hope. 



Horace Greeley. 13 

VIII. On the face of this wide earth, Mr. President, there 
is not one disinterested, determined, inteUigent champion of 
the Union Cause who does not feel that all attempts to put 
down the Rebellion and at the same time to uphold its incit- 

r ing cause are preposterous and futile — that the Rebellion if 
crushed out to-morrow, would be renewed within a year if 
Slavery were left in full vigor — that Army officers who re- 
main to this day devoted to Slavery can at best be but half- 
way loyal to the Union — and that every hour of deference 

10 to Slavery is an hour of added and deepened peril to the 
Union. I appeal to the testimony of your Embassadors in 
Europe. It is freely at your service, not at mine. Ask them 
to tell you candidly whether the seeming subserviency of your 
policy to the slaveholding, slavery-upholding interest, is not 

1 5 the perplexity, the despair of statesmen of all parties, and be 
admonished by the general answer! 

IX. I close as I began with the statement that what an 
immense majority of the Loyal Millions of your countrymen 
require of you is a frank, declared, unqualified, ungrudging 

20 execution of the laws of the land, more especially of the Con- 
fiscation Act. That act gives freedom to the slaves of 
Rebels coming within our lines, or whom those lines may at 
any time inclose — we ask you to render it due obedience 
by publicly requiring all your subordinates to recognize and 

25 obey it. The Rebels are everywhere using the late anti- 
negro riots in the North, as they have long used your ofiicers' 
treatment of negroes in the South, to convince the slaves 
that they have nothing to hope from a Union success — that 
we mean in that case to sell them into a bitterer bondage to 

30 defray the cost of the war. Let them impress this as a truth 
on the great mass of their ignorant and credulous bond- 
men, and the Union will never be restored — never. We 
cannot conquer Ten Millions of People united in a solid 
phalanx against us, powerfully aided by Northern sympa- 

35 thizers and European allies. We must have scouts, guides, 
spies, cooks, teamsters, diggers and choppers from the 



14 Letters. 

Blacks of the South, whether we allow them to fight for us or 
not, or we shall be baffled and repelled. As one of the Mil- 
lions who would gladly have avoided this struggle at any 
sacrifice but that of Principle and Honor, but who now feel 
that the triumph of the Union is indispensable, not only to 
the existence of our country but to the well-being of man- 
kind, I entreat you to render a hearty and unequivocal obedi- 
ence to the law of the land. 

Yours, 

Horace Greeley. 
New York, August 19, 1862. 



Ill b. 

PRESIDENT LINCOLN 

To Horace Greeley. 

[ " Mr, Lincoln always sought, and generally with success, to turn a 
dilemma into an advantage ; and shrewdly seizing the opportunity that 
Mr. Greeley had created, he in turn addressed him the following open 
letter through the newspapers in reply, by which he not merely warded 1 5 
off his present personal accusation, but skilfully laid the foundation in 
public sentiment for the very radical step he was about to take on the 
slavery question. . . . 

When Mr. Lincoln wrote the letter, the defeat of General Pope at 
the second battle of Bull Run had not yet taken place ; on the contrary, 20 
every probability pointed to an easy victory for the Union troops in the 
battle which was plainly seen to be impending. We may therefore 
infer that he hoped soon to be able to supplement the above declara- 
tions by issuing his postponed proclamation, which w^ould give the 
country knowledge of his final designs respecting the slavery question. 25 
But instead of the expected victory came a sad and demoralizing 
defeat, which prolonged, instead of shortening, the anxiety and uncer- 
tainty hanging over the intentions of the Administration." The 
Emancipation Proclamation was not pubHshed till September 23. 

Abraham Lincoln, Nicolay & Hay, Century Co., VI, 152-154.] 



President Lincoln. 15 

Executive Mansion, Washington, August 22, 1862. 

Hon. Horace Greeley: 

Dear Sir : I have just read yours of the 19th, addressed 
to myself through the New York Tribime. If there be in it 
5 any statements or assumptions of fact which I may know to 
be erroneous, I do not, now and here, controvert them. If 
there be in it any inferences which I may beheve to be 
falsely drawn, I do not, now and here, argue against them. 
If there be perceptible in it an impatient and dictatorial tone, 

10 I waive it in deference to an old friend whose heart I have 
always supposed to be right. 

As to the policy I " seem to be pursuing," as you say, I 
have not meant to leave any one in doubt. 

I would save the Union. I would save it the shortest 

15 way under the Constitution. The sooner the national 
authority can be restored, the nearer the Union will be " the 
Union as it was." If there be those who would not save the 
Union unless they could at the same time save slavery, I do 
not agree with them. If there be those who would not save 

20 the Union unless they could at the same time destroy slavery, 
I do not agree with them. My paramount object in this 
struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to 
destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing 
any slave, I would do it ; and if I could save it by freeing all 

25 the slaves, I would do it ; and if I could save it by freeing 
some and leaving others alone, I would also do that. What 
I do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I 
believe it helps to save the Union ; and what I forbear, I 
forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the 

30 Union. I shall do less whenever I shall believe what I 
am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever I 
shall believe doing more will help the cause. I shall try to 
correct errors when shown to be errors, and I shall adopt 
new views so fast as they shall appear to be true views. 

Z"^ I have here stated my purpose according to my view of 



1 6 Letters. 

official duty ; and I intend no modification of my oft-expressed 
personal wish that all men everywhere could be free. 

Yours, 

A. Lincoln. 



IV. 

PRESIDENT LINCOLN 

To General Hooker. 

[ " That indefinable abstraction which is called the morale of the army 5 
had suffered a grievous hurt [by the defeat of General Burnside at Fred- 
ericksburg] in those days of December, [1862.] Every officer who had 
leave to come to Washington whispered a woful story of disorganization 
and discouragement in the ears of his political friends. Even the cheery 
Sumner, when examined by a Committee of Congress, while stoutly de- 10 
fending his chief, admitted ' there was too much croaking in the army.' . . 

It was impossible to stop for a moment by a group of soldiers talk- 
ing around a camp fire without hearing enough to show that the com- 
manding general had lost the confidence of the rank and file of the 
army. Desertion prevailed to an alarming extent ; the officers, who 15 
could not escape their duty in that easy fashion, began to send in their 
resignations, accompanying them in some instances with insolent expres- 
sions against the Government for its conduct of the war. This smoth- 
ered mutiny w^as not confined to the lower ranks. Even among general 
officers there were to be heard the most dangerous outbursts . of disre- 20 
spect and discontent. The most indiscreet and outspoken of all was 
naturally General Hooker, whose words always readily ' escaped the 
fence of his teeth.' The commanding general was incompetent; his 
movements were absurd ; the President and Government at Washington 
were imbecile ; nothing would go right until they had a dictator and the 25 
sooner the better. . . . 

It could no longer be denied that General Burnside's usefulness as 
commander of that army was at an end. He felt that his position had 
become impossible, if the officers in command under him were to 
remain. On the 23d of January he determined to make a final issue 30 
between himself and the incorrigible critics in his command. He pre- 
pared an order dismissing from the army General Joseph Hooker for 
•unjust and unnecessary criticisms of the actions of his superior 



President Lincoln. 17 

officers,' as a man ' unfit to hold an important commission during a crisis 
like the present when so much patience, charity, confidence, considera- 
tion, and patriotism are due from every soldier in the field ; ' dismissing 
[three other Generals] and relieving from duty [six other officers]. 
5 Armed with this order and with his own letter of resignation, he asked 
for an audience with the President, and on the 24th placed before 
him the alternative of accepting one or the other. 

Mr. Lincoln saw there was no longer any time for adjournment or 
compromise. A commander who had lost the confidence of his soldiers 

10 could not regain it by dismissing a few of his Generals. The experiment 
of placing General Burnside at the head of the principal army of the Union 
had failed. The only question was now as to the choice of his successor. 
There is no doubt that public opinion pointed rather to Hooker than to 
any one else. He was the most esteemed of all the generals of the 

15 Army of the Potomac, at least, and so soon after the ill-success of Pope, 
the President was not inclined to risk the chances of bringing another 
general from the West. It is believed that he took no advice in regard 
to the matter. General Halleck says, ' The removal of General Burn- 
side and appointment of General Hooker was the sole act of the 

2.0 President.' Mr. Lincoln was not unaware of General Hooker's attitude 
towards Burnside and towards himself. His language had been in the 
highest degree improper and indiscreet. But, as in the case of McClellan, 
when he thought his services were of value he employed him and gave 
him his full support and confidence, after what would have seemed to 

25 most people his unpardonable conduct towards Pope and himself, so in 
this crisis, beheving that Hooker possessed in a great degree the confi- 
dence of the country and the soldiers, and that he had the capacity and 
the energy to lead the army to success, he again took the full responsi- 
bility upon himself, and the next day informed General Burnside of his 

30 determination. Burnside replied that he was willing to accept that as 
the best solution of the problem ; that no one would be happier than 
himself if General Hooker could lead that army to victory. He then 
again tendered his resignation, which the President refused to receive, but 
gave him leave of absence for thirty days, after which he placed him in 

35 command of the Department of the Ohio." Condensed from Abraham 
Lincoln. Nicolay & Hay, Century Co , VI, pp. 21 1-2 19.] 

Executive Mansion, Washington, 
January 26, 1863 
Major-General Hooker : 

40 General : I have placed you at the head of the Army of 
the Potomac. Of course I have done this upon what appears 
to' me to be sufficient reasons, and yet I think it best for you 



1 8 Letters. 

to know that there are some things in regard to which I am 
not quite satisfied with you. I believe you to be a brave and 
skillful soldier, which, of course, I like. I also believe you 
do not mix politics with your profession, in which you are 
right. You have confidence in yourself, which is a valuable, 5 
if not an indispensable, quality. You are ambitious, which, 
within reasonable bounds, does good rather than harm ; but I 
think that during General Burnside's command of the army, 
you have taken counsel of your ambition, and thwarted him 
as much as you could, in which you did a great wrong to the 10 
country and to a most meritorious and honorable brother 
officer. I have heard, in such a way as to believe it, of your 
recently saying that both the army and the Government 
needed a dictator. Of course, it was not for this, but in 
spite of it, that I have given you the command. Only those 15 
generals who gain successes can set up dictators. What I 
now ask of you is military success, and I will risk the dicta- 
torship. The Government will support you to the utmost of 
its ability, which is neither more nor less than it has done 
and will do for all commanders. I much fear that the spirit, 20 
which you have aided to infuse into the army, of criticising 
their commander and withholding confidence from him, will 
now turn upon you. I shall assist you as far as I can to put 
it down. Neither you nor Napoleon, if he were alive again, 
could get any good out of an army while such a spirit prevails 25 
in it. And now beware of rashness. Beware of rashness, 
but with energy and sleepless vigilance go forward and give 
us victories. 

Yours very truly, 

A. Lincoln. 



Samuel Johnson. 19 



V. 

SAMUEL JOHNSON 

To the Earl of Chesterfield. 

[*' About this time [Dr. Johnson] entered into an agreement with a 

syndicate of booksellers to compile an English Dictionary for the sum 

of fifteen hundred and seventy-five pounds, and the undertaking was 

announced to the public, in 1747, by his 'Plan of a Dictionary of the 

5 English Language,' addressed to the Earl of Chesterfield. . . . 

The ' Plan for a Dictionary ' published 1747, had been dedicated to 
Lord Chesterfield, who was now anxious that his name should appear 
as the patron of the Dictionary itself. But Johnson was very indignant 
at the neglect with which he had been treated, and was not at all con- 
ic ciliated by two very flattering papers written by Lord Chesterfield in ' The 
World.' * He had,' said Johnson, ' for many years taken no notice of me, 
but when my Dictionary was coming out, he fell a-scribbling in ' The 
World ' about it. Upon which I wrote him a letter, expressed in civil 
terms, but such as might show him that I did not mind what he said 
15 and wrote and that I had done with him.' The letter which he sent on 
this occasion is, though short, one of the finest productions of his pen. 
Its manly tone, its rugged pathos, the dignity of its style and the cold 
severity of the invective can never be surpassed. . . . 

Lord Chestei-field showed uncommon wisdom in not attempting a 
20 reply, but he made some efforts to appease Johnson through the 
mediation of Sir Thomas Robinson, who had been one of the puppets 
in the Duke of Newcastle's ministry. It w^as an unlucky choice. Sir 
Thomas was one of the most notorious bores in London. . . . His 
interview with Johnson was short and unsuccessful, and the Yorkshire 
25 Baronet seems to have narrowly escaped being shown out of the room." 
Life of Johnson, F. Grant, W. Scott, pp. 53-65.] 

It is interesting to contrast Lord Brougham's opinion of Johnson's 
conduct in writing this letter. " The prospectus [for the Dictionary] 
had been inscribed to Lord Chesterfield, then [1747] Secretai-y of State, 

30 and had received, when showed him in manuscript, that able and 
accomplished person's high approval. It should seem that Johnson 
had called upon him afterw-ards and been refused admittance, a thing 
far from inexplicable when the person happened to be a Cabinet 
Minister in a laborious department. He had probably not courted his 

3^ further acquaintance by invitations, but quarrel there was npt any 



20 Letters. 

between the parties ; and when the ' Dictionary ' was on the point of 
appearing, Lord Chesterfield wrote two witty and highly laudatory 
papers upon it in the ' World,' strongly but delicately recommending the 
expected work to all readers and all purchasers. Johnson's pride took 
fire, and he wrote that letter w^hich is so well known, and has been so 5 
much admired for its indignant and sarcastic tone, but which every- 
thing considered, is to be reckoned among the outrages committed by 
the irritability of the literary temperament. Nor can anything be more 
humbling if it be not even ridiculous enough at once to bring the 
subfime of the epistle down to a very ordinary level, than the imhappy 10 
Note w^hich Mr. Boswell's candour and love of accuracy has subjoined, — 
that Johnson once confessed to Mr. Langton his having received ten 
pounds from the Earl, but ' as that was so inconsiderable a sum, he 
thought the mention of it could not properly find a place in a letter of 
the kind this was ' — referring to the passage which speaks very incor- 15 
rectly of his having received from Lord Chesterfield ' not one act of assist- 
ance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour' [p. 21, 1. 17.] 
It seems almost as incorrect to say, that he had never received one 
smile of favour ; for it is certain that he had been admitted to his society 
and politely treated. He described him [once] as of ' exquisitely 20 
elegant manners, with more knowledge than what he expected, and as 
having conversed with him upon philosophy and literature.' The letter 
which he wrote appears to have been treated with indifference, if not 
with contempt, by the Noble Secretary of State ; for he showed it to any- 
one that asked to see it, and let it lie on his table open that all might 25 
read who pleased. The followers of Johnson quote this as a proof of 
his dissimulation ; possibly he overdid it ; but they should recollect how 
little anyone was likely to feel severely hurt by such a composition, 
when he could with truth mention, even if he should not choose to do 
so, that he had given the writer ten pounds without giving him the least 30 
offence." Men of Letters of Time of George III, Works of Lord 
Brougham, 1855, PP- 327-28.] 

February 7, 1755. 

My Lord : I have been lately inforrned by the proprietor 
of. " The World," that two papers in which my dictionary 35 
is recommended to the public, were written by your lordship. 
To be so distinguished is an honor, which, being very little 
accustomed to favors from the great, I know not well how to 
receive, or in w^hat terms to acknowledge. 

When, upon some slight encouragement I first visited your 40 



Samuel Johnson. ^i 

lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by 
the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to 
wish that I might boast myself " Le vainqueur du vainqueur 
de la terre " : that I might obtain that regard for which I saw 
5 the world contending; but I found my attendance so little 
encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me 
to continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in 
public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired 
and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I 

lo could ; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, 
be it ever so little. 

Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in 
your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; dur- 
ing which time I have been pushing on my work through 

15 difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have 
brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, without one 
act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile 
of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had 
a patron before. 

20 The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with 
Love, and found him a native of the rocks. 

Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern 
on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has 
reached the ground encumbers him with help ? The notice 

25 which you have been pleased to take of my labors, had it 
been early, had been kind ; but it has been delayed till I am 
indifferent, and cannot enjoy it ; till I am solitary, and can- 
not impart it ; till I am known and do not want it. I hope 
it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where 

30 no benefit has been received, or be unwilling that the public 
should consider me as owing that to a patron, which Provi- 
dence has enabled me to do for myself. 

Having carried on my work thus far with so little obliga- 
tion to any favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed 

35 though I should conclude, if less be possible, with less ; for I 
have been long wakened from that dream of hope, in which 



2 2 Letters. 

I once boasted myself with so much exultation, my lord, your 
lordship's most humble, most obedient servant, 

Sam. Johnson. 



VI. 
T. B. ALDRICH 

To William Winter.^ 

[Edwin Booth died June 8, 1893. He was buried in Mt. Auburn 
Cemetery, Cambridge, Mass. E^or years Mr. Aldrich, Mr. Winter, 5 
and Edwin Booth had been close friends.] 

PoNKAPOG, Mass., June 12, 1893. 

Dear Will : We reached Mount Auburn a few minutes 
before sunset. Just as Edwin was laid in the grave, among 
the fragrant pine boughs which lined it, and softened its cru- 10 
elty, the sun went down. I never saw anything of such 
heart-breaking loveliness as this scene. There in the tender 
afterglow two or three hundred men and women stood silent, 
with bowed heads. A single bird, in a nest hidden somewhere 
near by, twittered from time to time. The soft June air, blowing 1 5 
across the upland, brought with it the scent of syringa blos- 
soms from the slope below. Overhead and among the trees 
the twilight was gathering. " Good-night, sweet Prince ! " I 
said, under my breath, remembering your quotation. Then 
I thought of the years and years that had been made rich with 20 
his presence, and of the years that w^ere to come, — for us 
not many, surely, — and if there had not been a crowd of 
people, I would have buried my face in the greensward and 
wept, as men may not do, and women may. And thus we 
left him. - 25 

^ Reprinted by permission of T. B. Aldrich. 



Mrs. E. B. Browning. 23 

Some day, when I come to New York, we must get together 
in a corner at The Players and talk about him, — his sorrows 
and his genius, and his gentle soul. 

Ever affectionately, 
5 Tom. 



VII. 

MRS. E. B. BROWNING 

To the Emperor Napoleon III. 

[ This letter, written after Mrs. Brojming had been deeply stirred by 
reading the poems in Victor Hugo's " Contemplations," was found, after 
her death, among her papers. An endorsement stated that it was 
never sent. Hugo, because of his opposition to the schemes of Louis 

10 Napoleon, was put at the head of the listxof proscribed persons when 
the coup d'etat of 1857 changed the President into Napoleon III. 
Hugo first fled to Brussels, whence he issued within a year his " Histoire 
d'une Crime," an account of the coup d'etat, and his " Napoleon le 
Petit," a scathing arraignment of the Emperor. As a consequence of 

15 the sensation caused by the second book, Hugo was obliged to leave 
Belgium for Jersey. He lived on this island and the neighboring 
Guernsey till his return to France after the fall of the Empire, in Septem- 
ber, 1870. He refused to take advantage of two amnesties, in 1859 and 
1869, because he denied the right of an usurper to pardon, just as he had 

20 denied his right to condemn.] 

[April, 1857.] 

Sire, — I am only a woman, and have no claim on your 
Majesty's attention except that of the weakest on the strong- 
est. Probably my very name as the wife of an English poet, 

25 and as named itself a little among English poets, is unknown 
to your Majesty. I never approached my own sovereign 
with a petition, nor am skilled in the way of addressing kings. 
Yet having, through a studious and thoughtful life, grown 
used to great men (among \hh dead, at least), I cannot feel 

3QAeT^tirely at a loss in speaking to the Emperor Napoleon. 



24 Letters. 

And I beseech you to have patience with me while I sup- 
plicate you. It is not for myself nor for mine. 

I have been reading with wet eyes and a swelling heart 
(as many who love and some who hate your Majesty have 
lately done) a book called the ' Contemplations ' of a man who 5 
has sinned deeply against you in certain of his political writ- 
ings, and who expiates rash phrases and unjustifiable state- 
ments in exile in Jersey. I have no personal knowledge of 
this man ; I never saw his face ; and certainly I do not come 
now to make his apology. It is, indeed, precisely because 10 
he cannot be excused that, I think, he might worthily be for- 
given. For this man, whatever else he is not, is a great poet 
of France, and the Emperor, who is the guardian of her 
other glories, should remember him and not leave him out. 
Ah, sire, what was written on ' Napoleon le Petit ' does not 15 
touch your Majesty ; but what touches you is, that no histo- 
rian of the age should have to write hereafter, ' While Napo- 
leon III reigned, Victor Hugo lived in exile.' What touches 
you is, that when your people count gratefully the men of 
commerce, arms, and science secured by you to France, no 20 
voice shall murmur, ' But where is our poet ? ' What touches 
you is, that, however statesmen and politicians may justify 
his exclusion, it may draw no sigh from men of sentiment 
and impulse, yes, and from women like myself. What 
touches you is, that when your own beloved young prince 25 
shall come to read these poems (and when you wish him a 
princely nature, you wish, sire, that such things should move 
him), he may exult to recall that his imperial father was 
great enough to overcome this great poet with magnanimity. 

Ah, sire, you are great enough ! You can allow for the 30 
peculiarity of the poetical temperament, for the temptation of 
high gifts, for the fever in which poets are apt to rage and 
suffer beyond the measure of other men. You can consider 
that when they hate most causelessly there is a divine love 
in them somewhere ; and that when they see most falsely 35 
they are loyal to some ideal light. Forgive this enemy, this 



Emile Zola. 25 

accuser, this traducer. Disprove him by your generosity. 
Let no tear of an admirer of his poetry drop upon your pur- 
ple. Make an exception of him, as God made an exception 
of him when He gave him genius, and call him back without 
5 condition to his country and his daughter's grave. 

I have written these words without the knowledge of any. 
Naturally I should have preferred, as a woman, to have ad- 
dressed them through the mediation of the tender-hearted 
Empress Eugenie ; but, a wife myself, I felt it would be 

10 harder for her Majesty to pardon an offence against the Em- 
peror Napoleon, than it could be for the Emperor. 

And I am driven by an irresistible impulse to your Maj- 
esty's feet to ask this grace. It is a woman's voice, sire, 
which dares to utter what many yearn for in silence. I have 

15 believed in Napoleon III. Passionately loving the democ- 
racy, I have understood from the beginning that it was to be 
served throughout Europe in you and by you. I have trusted 
you for doing greatly. I will trust you, besides, for pardon- 
ing nobly. You will be Napoleon in this also. 

20 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



VIII. 

EMILE ZOLA 

To M. Felix Faure, President of the Republic.^ 

[" On January lo, 1898, some three years after the secret trial and con- 
viction, by a council of war, of Captain Alfred Dreyfus, a staff officer 
of the French army, of having sold French military secrets to a foreign 
power, a second council of war convened in Paris for the trial of Marie 

^ Reprinted, with explanatory matter, by permission of Benjamin R, 
Tucker, from The Trial of Emile Zola, N. Y., 1898. 



26 Letters. 

Charles Ferdinand Walsin-Esterhazy, a French infantry officer tempo- 
rarily relieved from active service on account of poor health, Dreyfus, 
after his trial, had been stripped of his uniform in a degrading public 
ceremony and sent for life to Devil's Island, a French penal settlement 
situated off the coast of French Guiana, where he was still confined 
under guard. The charge against Esterhazy — proffered by Mathieu 
Dreyfus, brother of Captain Alfred Dreyfus — was that he was the real 
author of the bordereau, or itemized memorandum, supposed to have 
been written by Captain Dreyfus. On the strength of this bordereau 
Dreyfus had been convicted. 

The trial was conducted publicly until the most important witness, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Georges Picquart, of the French Algerian Sharp- 
shooters, was reached, when the council went into secret session, 
remaining behind closed doors until the evening of January ii, when 
the doors were thrown open and General de Luxer, the president of the 15 
council, announced a unanimous vote in acquittal of the defendant. 

Two days later — January 13 — ' L'Aurore,' a daily paper published 
in Paris under the directorship of Ernest Vaughan and the editorship 
of Georges Clemenceau, and having as its gerant, or legally responsible 
editor, J. A. Perrenx, published the following letter from Emile Zola, 20 
man of letters, to Felix Faure, president of France."] 

Monsieur le President: Will you permit me, in my 
gratitude for the kindly welcome that you once extended to 
me, to have a care for the glory that belongs to you, and to 
say that your star, so lucky hitherto, is threatened with the 25 
most shameful, the most ineffaceable, of stains ? 

You have emerged from base calumnies safe and sound ; 
you have conquered our hearts. You seem radiant in the 
apotheosis of that patriotic fete which the Russian alliance 
has been for France, and you are preparing to preside at the 30 
solemn triumph of our Universal Exposition, which will crown 
our great century of labor, truth, and liberty. But what a 
mud-stain on your name — I was going to say on your reign 
— is this abominable Dreyfus affair 1 A council of war has 
just dared to acquit Esterhazy in obedience to orders, a final 35 
blow at truth, at all justice. And now it is done ! France 
has this stain upon her cheek ; it will be written in his- 
tory that under your presidency it was possible for this social 
crime to be committed. 



Emile Zola. 27 

Since they have dared, I too will dare. I will tell the 
truth, for I have promised to tell it, if the courts, once regu- 
larly appealed to, did not bring it out fully and entirely. It 
is my duty to speak ; I will not be an accomplice. My 
5 nights would be haunted by the spectre of the innocent man 
who is atoning, in a far-away country, by the most frightful 
of tortures, for a crime that he did not commit. 

And to you. Monsieur le President, will I cry this truth, 
with all the force of an honest man's revolt. Because of 

10 your honor I am convinced that you are ignorant of it. And 
to whom then shall I denounce the malevolent gang of the 
really guilty, if not to you, the first magistrate of the 
country ? 

First, the truth as to the trial and conviction of Dreyfus. 

15 A calamitous man has managed it all, has done it all — 
Colonel du Patay de Clam, then a simple major. He is the 
entire Dreyfus case ; it will be fully known only when a sin- 
cere investigation shall have clearly established his acts and 
his responsibilities. He appears the most excitable, the 

20 most intricate of minds, haunted with romantic intrigues, 
delighting in the methods of the newspaper novel, stolen 
papers, anonymous letters, meetings in deserted spots, mys- 
terious women who peddle overwhelming proofs by night. 
It is he who conceived the idea of dictating the bordereau 

25 to Dreyfus ; it is he who dreamed of studying it in a room 
completely lined with mirrors ; it is he whom Major Forzi- 
netti represents to us armed with a dark lantern, trying to 
gain access to the accused when asleep, in order to throw 
upon his face a sudden flood of light, and thus surprise a 

30 confession of his crime in the confusion of his awakening. 
And I have not told you the whole ; let them search, they 
will find more. I declare simply that Major du Patay de 
Clam, entrusted as a judicial officer with the duty of prepar- 
ing the Dreyfus case, is, in the order of dates and responsi- 

35 bilities, the first person guilty of the fearful judicial error that 
has been committed. 



28 Letters. 

The bordereau already had been for some time in the 
hands of Colonel Sandherr, director of the bureau of in- 
formation, who since then has died of general paralysis. 
" Flights " have taken place ; papers have disappeared, as 
they continue to disappear even to-day ; and the authorship 5 
of the bordereau was an object of inquiry, when little by 
little an a priori conclusion was arrived at that the officer must 
be a staff officer and an officer of artillery, — clearly a double 
error, which shows how superficially this bordereau has been 
studied, for a systematic examination proves that it could 10 
have been written only by an officer of troops. So they 
searched their own house ; they examined handwritings ; it 
w^as a sort of family affair, — a traitor to be surprised in the 
war offices themselves, that he might be expelled therefrom. 
And, as I do not wish to go over a story already known in 15 
part, it is sufficient to say that Major du Patay de Clam 
enters upon the scene as soon as the first breath of suspicion 
falls upon Dreyfus. Starting from that moment, it is he who 
invented Dreyfus ; the case becomes his case ; he under- 
takes to confound the traitor, and induce him to make a 20 
complete confession. There is also, to be sure, the minister 
of war. General Mercier, whose intelligence seems rather 
inferior ; there is also the chief of staff, General de Bois- 
deffre, who seems to have yielded to his passion for the 
clergy, and the sub-chief of staff, General Gonse, whose con- 25 
science has succeeded in accommodating itself to many things. 
But at bottom there was at first only Major du Patay de 
Clam, who leads them all, who hypnotizes them, — for he 
concerns himself also with spiritualism, with occultism, 
holding converse with spirits. Incredible are the experi- 30 
ences to which he submitted the unfortunate Dreyfus, the 
traps into which he tried to lead him, the mad inquiries, the 
monstrous fancies, — a complete and torturing madness. 

Ah 1 this first affair is a nightmare to one who know^s it in 
its real details. Major du Patay de Clam arrests Dreyfus, 35 
puts him in close confinement. He runs to Madame Drey- 



Emile Zola. 29 

fus, terrorizes her, tells her that, if she speaks, her husband 
is lost. Meantime the unfortunate was tearing his flesh, 
screaming his innocence. And thus the examination went 
on, as in a fifteenth-century chronicle, amid mystery, com- 
5 plicated with savage expedients, all of it based on a single 
childish charge, this imbecile bordereau, which was not 
simply a vulgar treason, but also the most shameless of 
swindles, for the famous secrets delivered proved, almost all 
of them, valueless. If I insist, it is because here lies the 

10 egg from which later was to be hatched the real crime, the 
frightful denial of justice, from w^hich France suffers. I 
should like to show in detail how the judicial error was 
possible ; how it was born of the machinations of Major du 
Patay de Clam ; how General Mercier and Generals de 

15 Boisdeffre and Gonse were led into it, gradually assuming 
responsibility for this error, which afterward they believed it 
their duty to insist upon as sacred truth, truth beyond 
discussion. At the start there was, on their part, only care- 
lessness and lack of intelligence. At worst, we see them 

20 yielding to the religious passions of their surroundings, and 
to the prejudices of the esprit de corps. They have let 
folly do its work. 

But here is Dreyfus before the council of war. The most 
absolute secrecy is demanded. Had a traitor opened the 

25 frontier to the enemy in order to lead the German emperor 
to Notre Dame, they would not have taken stricter measures 
of silence and mystery. The nation is awe-struck; there 
are whisperings of terrible doings, of those monstrous trea- 
sons that excite the indignatian of History, and naturally 

30 the nation bows. There is no punishment severe enough ; 
it will applaud even public degradation ; it will wish the 
guilty man to remain upon his rock of infamy, devoured by 
remorse. Are they real then, — these unspeakable things, 
these dangerous things, capable of setting Europe aflame, 

35 which they have had to bury carefully behind closed doors ? 
No, there was nothing behind them save the romantic and 



30 Letters. 

mad fancies of Major du Patay de Clam. All this was done 
only to conceal the most ridiculous of newspaper novels. 
And, to assure one's self of it, one need only study atten- 
tively the indictment read before the council of war. 

Ah ! the emptiness of this indictment ! That a man 5 
could have been condemned on this document is a prodigy 
of iniquity. I defy honest people to read it without feeling 
their hearts leap with indignation and crying out their revolt 
at the thought of the excessive atonement yonder, on Devil's 
Island. Dreyfus knows several languages — a crime ; no 10 
compromising document was found on his premises — a 
crime ; he sometimes visits his birthplace — a crime ; he is 
industrious, he is desirous of knowing everything — a crime ; 
he does not get confused — a crime ; he gets confused — a 
crime. And the simplicities of this document, the formal 15 
empty assertions ! We are told of fourteen counts ; but we 
find, after all, only one, — that of the bordereau ; and even - 
as to this we learn that the experts were not in agreement ; 
that one of them, M. Gobert, was hustled out in military 
fashion, because he permitted himself to arrive at another 20 
than the desired opinion. We are told also of twenty-three 
officers who came to overwhelm Dreyfus with their testimony. 
We are still in ignorance of their examination, but it is cer- ■ 
tain that all of them did not attack him, and it is to be 
remarked, furthermore, that all of them belonged to the war 25 
offices. It is a family trial ; there they are all at home ; and 
one should keep that in mind : the staff wanted the trial, sat 
in judgment at it, and has just passed judgment a second time. 

So there remained only the bordereau, concerning which 
the experts were not in agreement. It is said that in the 30 
council chamber the judges were naturally going to acquit. 
And, after that, how easy to understand the desperate ob- 
stinacy with which, in order to justify the conviction, they 
affirm to-day the existence of a secret overwhelming docu- 
ment, the document which cannot be shown, that legitimates 35 
everything, before which we must bow, an invisible and 



Emile Zola. 31 

unknowable god. I deny the existence of this document ; I 
deny it with all my might. A ridiculous document, yes, 
perhaps the document concerning kept women, in which 

there is mention of a certain D who is becoming too 

5 exacting ; some husband, doubtless, who thinks that they pay 
him too low a price for his wife. But a document of interest 
to the national defence the production of which would lead 
to a declaration of war to-morrow I No, no ; it is a lie ; 
and a lie the more odious and cynical because they lie with 

10 impunity, in such a way that no one can convict them of it. 
They stir up France ; they hide themselves behind their 
legitimate emotions ; they close mouths by disturbing hearts, 
by perverting minds. I know no greater civic crime. 

These then, Monsieur le President, are the facts which 

15 explain how it was possible to commit a judicial error ; and 
the moral proofs, the position of Dreyfus as a man of wealth, 
the absence of motive, his continual cry of innocence, com- 
plete the proof that he is a victim of the extraordinary 
fancies of Major du Patay de Clam, of his clerical surround- 

20 ings, of that hunting down of the " dirty Jews " which dis- 
graces our epoch. 

And now we come to the Esterhazy case. Three years 
have passed ; many consciences remain profoundly disturbed, 
anxiously seek the truth, and finally become convinced of 

25 the innocence of Dreyfus. 

I shall not give the history of M. Scheurer-Kestner's 
doubts, which later become convictions. But, while he was 
investigating for himself, serious things were happening to 
the general staff. Colonel Sandherr was dead, and Lieutenant- 

30 Colonel Picquart had succeeded him as chief of the bureau 
of information. And it is in this capacity that the latter, in 
the exercise of his functions, came one day into the posses- 
sion of a letter-telegram addressed to Major Esterhazy by an 
agent of a foreign power. His plain duty was to open 

35 an investigation. It is certain that he never acted except at 
the command of his superiors. So he submitted his sus- 



32 Letters. 



picions to his hierarchical superiors, first to General Gonse, 
then to General de Boisdeffre, then to General Billot, who 
had succeeded General Mercier as minister of war. The 
famous Picquart documents, of which we have heard so 
much, were never anything but the Billot documents, — I 5 
mean, the documents collected by a subordinate for his 
chief, the documents which must be still in existence in the 
war department. The inquiries lasted from May to Septem- 
ber, 1896, and here it must be squarely affirmed that Gen- 
eral Gonse was convinced of Esterhazy's guilt, and that 10 
General de Boisdeffre and General Billot had no doubt that 
the famous bordereau • was in Esterhazy's handwriting. 
Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart's investigation had led to the 
establishment of this fact. But the emotion thereat was 
great, for Esterhazy's conviction inevitably involved a revi- 15 
sion of the Dreyfus trial ; and this the staff was wished to 
avoid at any cost. 

Then there must have been a psychological moment full of 
anguish. Note that General Billot was in no way compro- 
mised ; he came freshly to the matter ; he could bring out 20 
the truth. He did not dare, in terror, undoubtedly, of public 
opinion, and certainly fearful also of betraying the entire 
staff. General de Boisdeffre, General Gonse, to say noth- 
ing of their subordinates. Then there was but a minute of 
struggle between his conscience and what he believed to be 25 
the military interest. When this minute had passed, it was 
already too late. He was involved himself ; he was compro- 
mised. And from that time his responsibility has simply 
grown ; he has taken upon his shoulders the crime of others, 
he is as guilty as the others, he is more guilty than they, for 30 
it was in his power to do justice and he did nothing. 
Understand this : for a whole year General Billot, Generals 
de Boisdeffre and Gonse have known that Dreyfus is inno- 
cent, and they have kept this dreadful fact to themselves. 
And these people sleep, and they have wives and children 35 
whom they love ! 



Emile Zola. 33 

Colonel Picquart had done his duty as an honest man. He 
insisted in the presence of his superiors, in the name of 
justice ; he even begged of them ; he told them how impolitic 
were their delays, in view of the terrible storm which was 
^ gathering, and which would surely burst as soon as the truth 
should be known. Later that was the language of M. 
Scheurer-Kestner to General Billot, who adjured him in the 
name of patriotism to take the matter in hand, and not to allow 
it to be aggravated until it should become a public disaster. 

10 No, the crime had been committed; the staff could no longer 
confess it. And Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart was sent on a 
mission ; he was farther and farther removed, even to Tunis, 
where one day they even wanted to honor his bravery by 
charging him with a mission which would surely have led to 

1 5 his massacre in the quarter where the Marquis de Mores met 
his death. He was not in disgrace ; Gen. Gonse was in 
friendly correspondence a\ ith him ; but there are secrets 
which it is not well to discover. 

At Paris the truth developed, irresistibly, and we know in 

20 what way the expected storm broke out. M. Mathieu 
Dreyfus denounced Major Esterhazy as the real author of 
the bordereau, at the moment when M. Scheurer-Kestner was 
about to lodge a demand for the revision of the trial with the 
keeper of the seals. And it is here that Major Esterhazy 

25 appears. The evidence shows that at first he was dazed, 
ready for suicide or flight. Then suddenly he determines to 
brazen it out ; he astonishes Paris by the violence of his 
attitude. The fact was that aid had come to him ; he had 
received an anonymous letter warning him of the intrigues of 

30 his enemies ; a mysterious woman had even disturbed herself 
at night to hand him a document stolen from the staff, which 
would save him. iVnd I cannot help seeing here again the 
hand of Lieutenant-Colonel du Patay de Clam, recognizing 
the expedients of his fertile imagination. His work, the 

35 guilt of Dreyfus, was in danger, and he was determined to 
defend it. A revision of the trial, — why, that meant the 



34 Letters. 



ruination of the newspaper novel, so extravagant, so tragic, 
with its abominable denouement on Devil's Island. That 
would never do. Thenceforth there was to be a duel 
between Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart and Lieutenant-Colonel 
du Patay de Clam, the one with face uncovered, the other 5 
masked. Presently we shall meet them both in the presence 
of civil justice. At bottom it is always the staff defending 
itself, unwilling to confess its crime, the abomination of which 
is growing from hour to hour. 

It has been wonderingly asked who were the protectors of 10 
Major Esterhazy. First, in the shadow, Lieutenant-Colonel 
du Patay de Clam, who devised everything, managed every- 
thing; his hand betrays itself in the ridiculous methods. 
Then there is General de Boisdeffre, General Gonse, General 
Billot himself, who are obliged to acquit the major, since they 15 
cannot permit the innocence of Dreyfus to be recognized, lest 
under the weight of public contempt the war offices should 
fall. And the fine result of this wonderful situation is that 
the one honest man in the case, Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart, 
who alone has done his duty, is to be the victim, the man to 20 
be derided and punished. O justice, what frightful despair 
grips the heart 1 They go so far as to say that he is a forger ; 
that he manufactured the telegram, to ruin Esterhazy. But, 
in Heaven's name, why? For what purpose? Show a mo- 
tive. Is he, too, paid by the Jews? The pretty part of the 25 
story is that he himself was an anti-Semite. Yes, we are wit- 
nesses of this infamous spectacle, — the proclamation of the 
innocence of men ruined with debts and crimes, while honor 
itself, a man of stainless life, is stricken down. When society 
reaches that point it is beginning to rot. 30 

There you have, then. Monsieur le President, the Ester- 
hazy case, — a guilty man who must be declared innocent. 
We can follow this beautiful business, hour by hour, for the 
last two months. I abridge, for this is but the resume of a 
story whose burning pages will some day be written at length. 35 
So we have seen General de Pellieux, and then Major Ravary, 



Emile Zola. 35 

carrying on a rascally investigation whence knaves come 
transfigured and honest people sullied. Then the council of 
war was convened. 

How could it have been expected that a council of war 
5 would undo what a council of war had done ? 

I say nothing of the selection which is always possible of 
judges. Is not the dominating idea of discipline, which 
is in the very blood of the soldiers, enough to destroy their 
power to do justice ? Who says discipline says obedience. 

10 When the minister of war, the great chief, has publicly 
estabhshed, amid the applause of the nation's representatives, 
the absolute authority of the judgment, do you expect a 
council of war formally to contradict him ? Hierarchically 
that is impossible. General Billot gave a hint to the judges 

15 by his declaration, and they passed judgment as they must 
face the cannon's mouth, without reasoning. The precon- 
ceived opinion that they took with them to their bench is 
evidently this : " Dreyfus has been condemned for the crime 
of treason by a council of war ; then he is guilty, and we, a 

20 council of war, cannot declare him innocent. Now, we know 
that to recognize Esterhazy's guilt would be to proclaim the 
innocence of Dreyfus." Nothing could turn them from that 
course of reasoning. 

They have rendered an iniquitous verdict which will weigh 

25 forever upon our councils of war, which will henceforth tinge 
with suspicion all their decrees. The first council of war 
may have been stupid ; the second is clearly criminal. Its 
excuse, I repeat, is that the supreme head had spoken, 
declaring the judgment unassailable, sacred, and superior to 

30 men, so that inferiors could say naught to the contrary. 
They talk to us of the honor of the army ; they want us to 
love it, to respect it. Ah ! certainly, yes, the army which 
would rise at the first threat, which would defend French 
soil ; that army is the whole people, and we have for it 

35 nothing but tenderness and respect. But it is not a question 
of that army, whose dignity is our special desire, in our 



36 Letters. 

need of justice. It is the sword that is in question ; the 
master that they may give us to-morrow. And piously kiss 
the sword-hilt, the god. No ! 

I have proved it, elsewhere ; the Dreyfus case was the 
case of the war offices : a staif officer, accused by his com- 5 
rades of the general staff, is convicted by the pressure of 
the chiefs of the staff. Again I say, he cannot come back 
innocent, unless all the staff be admitted to be guilty. 
Consequently the war offices, by all imaginable means, by 
press campaigns, by communications, by influence, have 10 
covered Esterhazy simply to ruin Dreyfus a second time. 
Ah ! with what a sweep the republican government should 
clear away this band of Jesuits, as General Billot himself 
calls them ! Where is the truly strong and wisely patriotic 
minister who will dare to reshape and renew all ? How 1 5 
many of the people I know are trembling with anguish in 
view of a possible war, knowing in what hands lies the 
national defence 1 And what a nest of base intrigues, 
gossip, and waste has this sacred asylum, entrusted with the 
fate of the country, become ! We are frightened by the 20 
terrible light thrown upon it by the Dreyfus case, this human 
sacrifice of an unfortunate, of a " dirty Jew." Ah ! what a 
mixture of madness and folly, of crazy fancies, of vile police 
practices, of inquisitorial and tyrannical customs, the good 
pleasure of a few persons in gold lace, wdth their boots on 25 
the neck of the nation, cramming back into its throat its 
cry of truth and justice, under the lying and sacrilegious 
pretext of reasons of state ! 

And another of their crimes is that they have accepted 
the support of the unclean press, have suffered themselves 30 
to be championed by all the knavery of Paris, so that now 
we witness knavery's insolent triumph in the downfall of 
right and simple probity. It is a crime to have accused of 
troubling France those who wish to see her generous, at the 
head of the free and just nations, when they themselves are 35 
hatching the insolent conspiracy to impose error in the face 



Emile Zola. 37 

of the entire world. It is a crime to mislead opinion, to 
utilize for a deadly attack this opinion that they have per- 
verted to the point of delirimii. It is a crime to poison the 
minds of the lowly and the humble, to exasperate the pas- 
5 sions of reaction and intolerance, by seeking shelter behind 
odious anti-Semitism, of which France, great, liberal France 
of the rights of man, will die, if she is not cured. It is a 
crime to exploit patriotism for works of hatred, and, finally, 
it is a crime to make the sv*rord the modern god, when all 

10 human science is at work on the coming temple of truth and 
justice. 

How distressing it is then to see this truth, this justice, 
for which we have so ardently longed, buffeted thus and 
become more neglected and more obscured. I have a sus- 

15 picion of the black despair there must be in the soul of 
M. Scheurer-Kestner, and I really believe that he will finally 
feel remorse that he did not, on the day of interpellation in 
the senate, acting in revolutionary fashion, by thoroughly 
ventilating the whole matter, topple everything over. He 

20 has been the highly honest man, the man of loyal life, and 
he thought that the truth was sufficient unto itself, especially 
when it should appear as dazzling as the open day. Of 
what use to overturn everything, since soon the sun would 
shine ? And it is for this confident serenity that he is now 

25 so cruelly punished. And the same is the case of Lieutenant- 
Colonel Picquart, who, moved by a feeling of lofty dignity, 
has been unwilling to publish General Gonse's letters. 
These scruples do him the more honor because, while he 
respected discipline, his superiors heaped mud upon him, 

30 working up the case against him themselves in the most 
unexpected and outrageous fashion. Here are two victims, 
two worthy people, two simple hearts, who have trusted God, 
while the devil was at work. And in the case of Lieutenant- 
Colonel Picquart we have seen even this ignoble thing, — a 

35 French tribunal, after suffering the reporter in the case 
publically to arraign a witness and accuse him of every 



38 Letters. 

crime, closing its doors as soon as this witness has been 
introduced to explain and defend himself. I say that is 
one crime more, and that this crime will awaken the uni- 
versal conscience. Decidedly, military tribunals have a 
singular idea of justice. 5 

Such, then, is the simple truth, Monsieur le President, 
and it is frightful. It will remain a stain upon your presi- 
dency. I suspect that you are powerless in this matter, — 
that you are the prisoner of the constitution and your envi- 
ronment. You have none the less a man's duty, upon which 10 
you will reflect, and v^^hich you will fulfil. Not indeed that 
I despair, the least in the world, of triumph. I repeat with 
more vehement certainty : truth is marching on, and nothing 
can stop it. To-day sees the real beginning of the affair, 
since not until to-day have the positions been clear : on the 15 
one hand, the guilty, who do not want the light; on the 
other, the doers of justice, who will give their lives to get it. 
I have said elsewhere, and I repeat it here : when truth is 
buried in the earth, it accumulates there, and assumes so 
mighty an explosive power that, on the day when it bursts 20 
forth, it hurls everything into the air. We shall see if they 
have not made preparations for the most resounding of 
disasters, yet to come. 

But this letter is long, Monsieur le President, and it is 
time to finish. 25 

I accuse Lieutenant-Colonel du Patay de Clam of having 
been the diabolical workman of judicial error, — uncon- 
sciously, I am willing to believe, — and of having then de- 
fended his calamitous work, for three years, by the most 
absurd and guilty machinations. 30 

I accuse General Mercier of having made himself an ac- 
complice, at least through weakness of mind, in one of the 
greatest iniquities of the century. 

I accuse General Billot of having had in his hands certain 
proofs of the innocence of Dreyfus, and of having stifled 35 
them ; of having rendered himself guilty of this crime of 



Emile Zola. 39 

lese-humanite and lese-justice for a political purpose, and to 
save the compromised staff. 

I accuse General de Boisdeffre and General Gonse of 

having made themselves accomplices in the same crime, one 

5 undoubtedly through clerical passion, the other perhaps 

through that esprit de corps which makes of the war offices 

the Holy Ark, unassailable. 

I accuse General de Pellieux and Major Ravary of having 
conducted a rascally inquiry, — I mean a monstrously par- 

10 tial inquiry, of which we have, in the report of the latter, an 
imperishable monument of naive audacity. 

I accuse the three experts in handwriting, Belhomme, 
Varinard, and Conard, of having made lying and fraudulent 
reports, provided medical examination does not prove them 

15 diseased in eyes and judgment. 

I accuse the war offices of having carried on in the press, 
particularly in " L'Eclair " and in " L'Echo de Paris," an abom- 
inable campaign, to mislead opinion and cover up their faults. 
I accuse, finally, the council of war of having violated the 

20 law by condemning an accused person on the strength of a 
secret document, and I accuse the second council of war of 
having covered up this illegality, in obedience to orders, and 
in committing, in its turn, the judicial crime of knowingly 
acquitting a guilty man. 

25 In preferring these charges, I am not unaware that I make 
myself liable under Articles 30 and 31 of the press law of 
July 29, 188 1, which punishes defamation. And it is wil- 
fully that I expose myself thereto. 

As for the people whom I accuse, I do not know them, 

30 I have never seen them, I entertain against them no feeling 
of revenge or hatred. They are to me simple entities, spir- 
its of social ill-doing. And the act that I perform here is 
nothing but a revolutionary measure to hasten the explosion 
of truth and justice. 

35 I have but one passion, the passion for the Hght, in the 
name of humanity which has suffered so much, and which 



40 Letters. 

is entitled to happiness. My fiery protest is simply the cry 
of my soul. Let them dare, then, to bring me into the assize 
court, and let the investigation take place in the open day. 

I await it. 

Accept, Monsieur le President, the assurance of my pro- 5 
found respect. 

, Emile Zola. 

[" At the sitting of the French chamber of deputies on the day of 
the appearance of the foregoing letter, Comte de Mun, a member of the 
chamber and representing the monarchical party, questioned the govern- 10 
ment 'as to the measures which the minister of war intends to take, in 
consequence of the article published this morning by M. Emile Zola.' 
After a stormy debate and the suspension of the sitting, M. Meline, the 
prime minister, reluctantly declared the intention of the government to 
prosecute the author of the article. 1 5 

Accordingly, on January 29, the assize court of the Seine served 
notice on M. Zola and M. Perrenx to appear before it at the Palais de 
Justice on the following February 7, and there answer to a charge of 
having publicly defamed the first council of war of the military govern- 
ment of Paris, the charge being based on the following passages from 20 
the incriminated article : 

* A council of war has dared to acquit an Esterhazy in obedience to 
orders, a final blow at all truth, at all justice. And now it is done ! 
France has this stain upon her cheek ; it will be written in history that 
under your presidency it was possible for this social crime to be com- 25 
mitted.' 

* They have rendered an iniquitous verdict which will weigh forever 
upon our councils of war, which will henceforth tinge all their decrees 
with suspicion. The first council of war may have been lacking in com- 
prehension ; the second is necessarily criminal.' 30 

' I accuse the second council of war of having covered this illegality, 
in obedience to orders, in committing in its turn the judicial crime of 
knowingly acquitting a guilty man.' 

On January 22, 'L'Aurore' published a second letter from M. Zola, 
addressed to the minister of war, in which he complained that the 35 
government had based its charge of defamation exclusively on those 
passages of his first letter which related to the trial of Major Esterhazy, 
carefully refraining from specification of those passages relating to the 
trial of Captain Dreyfus, lest thereby the truth about the latter should 
come to light and compel revision of his case." 40 

The jury found Zola guilty by a vote of 7 to 5, and the judge con- 



W. H. Seward. 41 

demned him to imprisonment for a year, with a fine of $600. Zola 
carried his case to the Supreme Court of Appeal on many counts, where 
the preceding trial was quashed on the ground that the indictment had 
not been signed by the proper persons. At the second trial, satisfied 
at length that the truth would in time be known, Zola let the judgment 
go by default, and quitted France, to which, by French law, he could re- 
turn at any time within five years and demand a fresh trial.] 



IX. 
W. H. SEWARD 
To C. F. Adams.i 



[" From the election of Lincoln until three days preceding his in- 
auguration, a period of nearly four months, embracing the whole drama 

10 of public secession and the organization of the Montgomery Confeder- 
acy, not a word of information, explanation, or protest on these momen- 
tous proceedings was sent by the Buchanan Cabinet to foreign powers. 
They were left to draw their inferences exclusively from newspapers, 
the debates of Congress, and the President's messages till the last day 

15 of February, 1861, when Secretary Black, in a diplomatic circular, in- 
structed our ministers at foreign courts that ' this Government has not 
reUnquished its constitutional jurisdiction within the territory of ttose 
[seceded] States and does not desire to do so,' and that a recognition of 
their independence must be opposed. France and England replied cour- 

20 teously that they w^ould not act in haste, but quite emphatically that they 
could give no further binding promise. 

Mr. Seward, on assuming the duties of Secretary of State, immedi- 
ately transmitted a circular, repeating the injunction of his predecessor 
and stating the confidence of the President in the speedy restoration of 

25 the harmony and unity of the Government. Considerable delay oc- 
curred in settling upon the various foreign appointments. The new 
minister to France, William L. Dayton, and the new minister to Great 
Britain, Charles Francis Adams, did not sail for Europe till about the first 
of May. Before either of them arrived at his post, both governments had 

30 violated in spirit their promise to act in no haste. On the day Mr. 
Adams sailed from Boston, his predecessor, G. M. Dallas, yet in Lon- 

^ Reprinted, with the introductory material, by permission of the 
Century Co. from Nicolay & Hay's Abraham Lincoln, IV, pp. 267-75. 



42 Letters. 

don, was sent for by Lord John Russell, her Brittanic Majesty's Minister 
of Foreign Affairs. ' He told me,' wrote Mr. Dallas, ' that the three 
representatives of the Southern Confederacy were here; that he 
had not seen them, but was not unwilling to do so, unofficially ; that 
there existed an understanding between this Government and that of 5 
France which would lead both to take the same course as to recognition, 
whatever that course might be.' 

The step here foreshadowed was soon taken. Three days later Lord 
John Russell did receive the three representatives of the Southern Con- 
federacy ; and while he told them he could not communicate with them 10 
' officially,' his language indicated that when the South could maintain 
its position England would not be unwilling to hear what terms they 
had to propose. When Mr. Adams landed in England he found, evi- 
dently to forestall his arrival, that the Ministry had published the Queen's 
proclamation of neutrality, raising the Confederate States at once to the 15 
position and privilege of a belligerent power ; and France soon followed 
the example. 

In taking this precipitate action, both nations probably thought it 
merely a preliminary step ; the British ministers believed disunion to be 
complete and irrevocable, and were eager to take advantage of it to 20 
secure free trade and cheap cotton; while Napoleon III, Emperor of 
the French, already harboring far-reaching colonial designs, expected not 
only to recognize the South, but to assist her at no distant day by an 
armed intervention. For the present, of course, all such meditations 
were veiled under the bland phraseology of diplomatic regret at our mis- 25 
fortune. . . . When the communication which Lord John Russell made 
to Mr. Dallas was received at the State Department, the unfriendly act 
of the English Government, and more especially the half-insulting man- 
ner of its promulgation, filled Mr. Seward with indignation. In this 
mood be wrote a dispatch to Mr. Adams, which, if transmitted and 30 
delivered in its original form, could hardly have failed to endanger the 
peaceful relations of the two countries. The general tone and spirit of 
the paper were admirable ; but portions of it were phrased with an ex- 
asperating bluntness, and certain directions were lacking in diplomatic 
prudence. This can be accounted for only by the irritation under which 35 
he wrote. It was Mr. Seward's ordinary habit personally to read his 
despatches to the President before sending them. Mr. Lincoln, detect- 
ing the defects of the paper, retained it, and after careful scrutiny made 
such material corrections and alterations with his own hand as took 
from it all offensive crudeness without in the least lowering its tone, 40 
but, on the contrary, greatly increasing its dignity. . . ." 

When the President returned the manuscript to his hands, Mr. 
Seward somewhat changed the form of the despatch by prefixing to it 



W. H. Seward. 



43 



two short introductory paragraphs in whicli he embodied, in his own 
phraseology, the President's direction that the paper was to be merely 
a confidential instruction not to be read or shown to anyone, and that 
[Mr. Adams] should not in advance say anything inconsistent with its 
5 spirit. This also rendered unnecessary the President's direction to 
omit the last tw^o paragraphs, and accordingly they remained in the des- 
patch as finally sent." The tw'o paragraphs are supplied from Diplo- 
matic Correspondence, 1861.] 



SEWARD'S ORIGINAL DISPATCH, SHOWING MR. 
LINCOLN'S CORRECTIONS. 

\All words by Lincoln in inargin or in text are in italics. All 7natter 
betwee?t brackets was jnarked oz(t.] 

Department of State, 
10 Washington, May 21, 1861. 

Sir: 

Mr. Dallas in a brief dispatch of May 2nd, 
(No. 333) tells us that Lord John Russell 
recently requested an interview with him on 

15 account of the solicitude which His Lordship 
felt concerning the effect of certain measures 
represented as likely to be adopted by the 
President. In that conversation the British 
Secretary told Mr. Dallas that the three repre- 

20 sentatives of the Southern Confederacy were then 
in London, that Lord John Russell had not yet 
seen thern, but that he was not unwilling to see 
them unofficially. He farther informed Mr. 
Dallas that an understanding exists between the 

25 British and French Governments which would 
lead both to take one and the same course as 
to recognition. His Lordship then referred to 
the rumour of a, meditated blockade by us of 
Southern ports, and a discontinuance of them 

30 as ports of entry. Mr. Dallas answered that he 
knew nothing on those topics and therefore 



Leave out. 



44 Letters. 

could say nothing. He added that you were 
expected to arrive in two weeks. Upon this 
statement Lord John Russell acquiesced in the 
expediency of waiting for the full knowledge 
you were expected to bring. 5 

Mr. Dallas transmitted to us some newspaper 
reports of Ministerial explanations made in 
Parliament. 

You will base no proceedings on parliamen- 
tary debates farther than to seek explanations lo 
when necessary and communicate them to this 
Department. [We intend to have a clear and 
simple record of whatever issue may arise be- 
tween us and Great Britain.] 

The President [is surprised and grieved] 15 
regrets that Mr. Dallas did not protest against 
the proposed unofficial intercourse between the 
British Government and the missionaries of the 
insurgents [as well as against the demand for 
that such explanations made by the British Government]. 20 
explanations It is due, howevcr, to Mr. Dallas to say that 
ivere den^a^td- Q^r instructions had been given only to you and 
'' • not to him, and that his loyalty and fidelity, too 

rare in these times [among our late representa- 
eave out. ^^y^g abroad are confessed and], are appreciated. 25 
Intercourse of any kind with the so-called 
Commissioners is liable to be construed as a 
recognition of the authority which appointed 
them. Such intercourse would be none the less 
[wrongful] hurtful to us for being called unoffi- 30 
cial, and it might be even more injurious, be- 
cause we should have no means of knowing 
what points might be resolved by it. Moreover, 
unofficial intercourse is useless and meaningless, 
if it is not expected to ripen into official inter- 35 
course and direct recognition. It is left 



Leave out 
because it does 
not appear 



W. H. Seward. 45 



doubtful here whether the proposed unofficial 
intercourse has yet actually begun. Your own 
[present] antecedent instructions are deemed 
explicit enough, and it is hoped that you have 
5 not misunderstood them. You will in any 
event desist from all intercourse whatever, un- 
official as well as official with the British Gov- 
ernment, so long as it shall continue intercourse 
of either kind with the domestic enemies of 

10 this country, [confining yourself simply to a 

delivery of a copy of this paper to the Secretary Leave out. 
of State. After doing this] When intercourse 
shall have bee7i arrested for this cause you will 
communicate with this Department and receive 

15 farther directions. 

Lord John Russell has informed us of an 
understanding between the British and French 
Governments that they will act together in 
regard to our affairs. This communication 

20 however loses something of its value from the 
circumstance that the communication was with- 
held until after knowledge of the fact had been 
acquired by us from other sources. We know 
also another fact that has not yet been officially 

25 communicated to us ; namely, that other Euro- 
pean States are apprized by France and England 
of their agreement and are expected to concur 
with or follow them in whatever measures they 
adopt on the subject of recognition. The 

30 United States have been impartial and just in 
all their conduct towards the several nations 
of Europe. They will not complain however 
of the combination now announced by the two 
leading powers, although they think they had a 

35 right to expect a more independent if not a 
more friendly course from each of them. You 



46 Letters. 



will take no notice of that or any other alliance. 
Whenever the European Governments shall see 
fit to communicate directly with us we shall be 
as heretofore frank and explicit in our reply. 

As to the blockade, you will say that by [the] 5 
our own laws [of nature] and the laws of nature 
and the laws of nations this government has a 
clear right to suppress insurrection. An exclu- 
sion of commerce from national ports which 
have been seized by the insurgents, in the equi- 10 
table form of blockade, is the proper means to 
that end. You will [admit] not insist that our 
blockade is [not] to be respected if it be not 
maintained by a competent force — but passing 
by that question as not now a practical or at 15 
least an urgent one you will add that [it] the 
blockade is now and it will continue to be so 
maintained, and therefore we expect it to be 
respected by Great Britain. You will add that 
we have already revoked the exequatur of a 20 
Russian consul who had enlisted in the Military 
service of the insurgents, and we shall dismiss 
or demand the recall of every foreign agent. 
Consular or Diplomatic, who shall either dis- 
obey the Federal laws or disown the Federal 25 
authority. 

As to the recognition of the so-called Southern 
Confederacy it is not to be made a subject of 
technical definition. It is of course \(juasi\ 
direct recognition to publish an acknowledg- 30 
ment of the sovereignty and independence of a 
new power. It is \^uasi'\ direct recognition to 
receive its ambassadors, ministers, agents, or 
commissioners ofiicially. A concession of bellig- 
erent rights is liable to be construed as a recog- 35 
nition of them. No one of these proceedings 



W. H. Seward. 47 

will [be home] J>ass \u7inoticed'\ unquestioned by 
the United States in this case. 

Hitherto recognition has been moved only on 
the assumption that the so-called Confederate 
5 States are de facto a self-sustaining power. 
Now after long forbearance, designed to soothe 
discontent and avert the need of civil war, the 
land and naval forces of the United States have 
been put in motion to repress the insurrection. 

10 The true character of the pretended new State 
is at once revealed. It is seen to be a Power 
existing in pronunciamento only. It has never 
won a field. It has obtained no forts that were 
not virtually betrayed into its hands or seized 

15 in breach of trust. It Commands not a single 
port on the coast nor any highway out from its 
pretended Capitol by land. Under these cir- 
cumstances Great Britain is called upon to in- 
tervene and give it body and independence by 

20 resisting our measures of suppression. British 
recognition would be British intervention to 
create within our own territory a hostile state by 
overthrowing this Republic itself. [When this 
act of intervention is distinctly performed we 

25 from that hour shall cease to be friends and 
become once more, as we have twice before 
been forced to be, enemies of Great Britain.] 

As to the treatment of privateers in the in- 
surgent service, you will say that this is a 

30 question exclusively our own. We treat them 
as pirates. They are our own citizens, or per- 
sons employed by our citizens, preying on the 
commerce of our country. If Great Britain 
shall choose to recognize them as lawful bellig- 

35 erents, and give them shelter from our pursuit 
and punishment, the laws of nations afford an 



Leave out. 



48 Letters. 

adequate and proper remedy, [and we shall 
avail ourselves of it. And while you need not to 
say this in advance^ be sure that you say nothing 
inconsistent ivith it\ 

Happily, however. Her Britannic Majesty's 5 
Government can avoid all these difficulties. It 
invited us in 1856 to accede to the declaration 
of the Congress of Paris, of which body Great 
Britain was herself a member, abolishing priva- 
teering everywhere in all cases and forever. 10 
You already have our authority to propose to 
her our accession to that declaration. If she 
refuse to receive it, it can only be because she 
is willing to become the patron of privateering 
when aimed at our devastation. 15 

These positions are not elaborately defended 
now, because to indicate them would imply a 
possibility of our waiving them. 
Drop all We are not insensible of the grave importance 
from this line of this occasion. We see how, upon the result 20 
to the end. and ^f ^j^^ ^^^^^^^ -^ ^j^.^j^ ^^ ^^^ engaged, a war 
in heu of tt , , ^^ . , ^ ^ ^ ' 

write " This "^^^ ensue between the United States, and one, 

paper is for two, or even more European nations. War in 

your own any casc is as exceptionable from the habits as it 

guidance jg revolting from the sentiments of the American 25 

only and not j^^ j^^^ if it come it will be fully seen that 

\stc\ to be . ^ . ^ 

read or shown it results from the action of Great Britain, not 

to anyone"' our own, that Great Britain will have decided to 
fraternize with our domestic enemy, either with- 
out waiting to hear from you our remonstrances, 30 
and our warnings, or after having heard them. 
War in defense of national life is not immoral, 
and war in defense of independence is an 
inevitable part of the discipline of nations. 

The dispute will be between the European 35 
and the American branches of the British race. 



W. H. Seward. 49 

All who belong to that race will especially 
deprecate it, as they ought. It may well be 
believed that men of every race and kindred 
will deplore it. A war not unlike it between 
5 the same parties occurred at the- close of the 
last century. Europe atoned by forty years of 
suffering for the error that Great Britain com- 
mitted in provoking that contest. If that nation 
shall now repeat the same great error the social 

10 convulsions which will follow may not be so 
long but they will be more general. When they 
shall have ceased, it will, we think, be seen, 
whatever may have been the fortunes of other 
nations, that it is not the United States that will 

1 5 have come out of them with its precious Consti- 
tution altered or its honestly obtained dominion 
in any degree abridged. Great Britain has but 
to wait a few months and all her present incon- 
veniences will cease with our own troubles. 

20 If she take a different course she will calculate 
for herself the ultimate as well as the immediate 
consequences, and will consider what position 
she will hold when she shall have forever lost 
the sympathies and the affections of the only 

25 nation on whose sympathies and affections she 
has a natural claim. In making that calculation 
she will do well to remember that in the con- 
troversy she proposes to open we shall be 
actuated by neither pride, nor passion, nor 

30 cupidity, nor ambition ; but we shall stand 
simply on the principle of self preservation, and 
that our cause will involve the independence of 
nations, and the rights of human nature. 

I am. Sir, respectfully, your obedient servant, 

35 W. H. S. 

Charles Francis Adams, Esq., etc., etc., etc. 



50 



Letters. 

The New Introductory Paragraphs. 

No. lo. Department of State, 

Washington, May 21, 1861. 

Sir : This government considers that our 
relations in Europe have reached a crisis, in 
which it is necessary for it to take a decided 5 
stand, on which not only its immediate measures, 
but its ultimate and permanent policy can be 
determined and defined. At the same time it 
neither means to menace Great Britain nor to 
wound the susceptibilities of that or any other 10 
European nation. That policy is developed in 
this paper. 

The paper itself is not to be read or shown to 
the British secretary of state, nor are any of 
its positions to be prematurely, unnecessarily, or 15 
indiscretely made known. But its spirit will be 
your guide. You will keep back nothing when 
the time arrives for its being said with dignity, 
propriety, and effect, and you will all the while 
be careful to say nothing that will be incon- 20 
gruous or inconsistent with the views which it 
contains. 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 
Memorandum Upon the Appeal of Admiral Schley. 

[The conduct of Rear-Admiral Schley during the Santiago campaign 
gave rise to so much adverse comment that in July, 1901, he asked the 
Navy Department to take such action as it might deem best fitted to 25 
bring the matter of his conduct under discussion by his fellow-officers. 
Secretary Long convened a court of inquiry, which, in December, 
reported the following Opinion, 



Theodore Roosevelt. 51 



Opinion. " Commodore Schley, in command of the Flying Squad- 
ron, should have proceeded with utmost dispatch off Cienfuegos and 
shoidd have maintained a close blockade of that port. 

He should have endeavored on May 23, at Cienfuegos, to obtain 
5 information regarding the Spanish squadron by communicating with the 
insurgents at the place designated in the memorandum delivered to him 
at 8.15 a. m. of that date. 

He should have proceeded from Cienfuegos to Santiago de Cuba 
with all dispatch and should have disposed his vessels with a 
o view of intercepting the enemy in any attempt to pass the Flying 
Squadron. 

He should not have delayed the squadron for the Eagle. 

He should not have made the retrograde turn westward with 
his squadron, 
c He should have promptly obeyed the Navy Department's order of 
May 25. 

He should have endeavored to capture or destroy the Spanish 
vessels at anchor near the entrance of Santiago Harbor on May 29 and 

30- 
o He did not do his utmost with the force under his command 
to capture or destroy the Colon and other vessels of the enemy which 
he attacked on May 31. 

By commencing the engagement on July 3 with the port battery 
and turning the Brooklyn around with port helm Commodore Schley 
25 caused her to lose distance and position with the Spanish vessels, 
especially with the Vizcaya and Colon. 

The turn of the Brooklyn to starboard was made to avoid getting 
her into dangerous proximity to the Spanish vessels. The turn was 
made toward the Texas and caused that vessel to stop and to back her 
30 engines to avoid possible collision. 

Admiral Schley did injustice to Lieut. Commander A. C. Hodgson 
in publishing only a portion of the correspondence which passed betw^een 
them. 

Commodore Schley's conduct in connection with the events of the 
35 Santiago campaign prior to June i, 1898, was characterized by vacilla- 
tion, dilatoriness, and lack of enterprise. 

His official reports regarding the coal supply and the coaling 
facilities of the Flying Squadron were inaccurate and misleading. 

His conduct during the battle of July 3 was self-possessed, and he 
40 encouraged, in his own person, his subordinate officers and men to fight 
courageously." 

To this Admiral Dewey, the president of the Court, appended his own 
opinion on the following matters, 



52 



Letters. 



" In the opinion of the undersigned the passage from Key West to 
Cienfuegos was made by the Flying Squadron with all possible dispatch, 
Commodore Schley having in view^ the importance of arriving off Cien- 
fuegos with as much coal as possible in the ships' bunkers. 

The blockade of Cienfuegos was effective. 5 

Commodore Schley in permitting the steamer Adtda to enter the 
port of Cienfuegos expected to obtain information concerning the 
Spanish Squadron from her when she came out. 

The passage from Cienfuegos to a point about twenty-two miles 
south of Santiago was made with as much dispatch as was possible lo 
while keeping the squadron a unit. 

The blockade of Santiago w^as effective. 

Commodore Schley was the senior officer of our squadron off 
Santiago when the Spanish Squadron attempted to escape on the 
morning of July 3, 1898. He was in absolute command, and is entitled 15 
to the credit due to such commanding officer for the glorious victory 
which resulted in the total destruction of the Spanish ships." Record of 
Court of Inquiry W,"!^^. 1829-30. 1902. 

The Court recommended that in view of the length of time elapsed 
since the events no further action should be had. Rear-Admiral Schley 20 
at once filed exceptions to the findings of the Court ; and Rear-Admiral 
Sampson traversed the view of Admiral Dewey as to the person in com- 
mand during the fight. Secretary Long, after reviewing the case in the 
light of the exceptions, and the traversing of Admiral Sampson, approved 
the findings of the whole Court, and those of the majority as contrasted 25 
with those of Admiral Dewey. He approved also the action of the 
whole Court in not expressing an opinion as to the person in command 
and their recommendation that no further action be taken. Rear- 
Admiral Schley appealed from this decision to the President, and the 
attorneys of Admiral Sampson addressed the President on the ques- 30 
tion of the commanding officer in the battle. The following memoran- 
dum, or letter, was the President's settlement of the matter.] 

White House, February i8th, 1902. 
I have received the appeal of Admiral Schley and the 
answer thereto from the Navy Department. I have exam- 35 
ined both with the utmost care, as well as the preceding 
appeal to the Secretary of the Navy. I have read through 
all the testimony taken before the Court and the statements 
of the counsel for Admirals Sampson and Schley ; have exam- 
ined all the official reports of every kind in reference to the 40 
Santiago naval campaign, copies of the logbooks and signal 



Theodore Roosevelt. 53 

books, and the testimony before the Court of Claims, and 
have also personally had before me the four surviving cap- 
tains of the five ships, aside from those of the two admirals, 
which were actively engaged at Santiago. 
5 It appears that the Court of Inquiry was unanimous in its 
findings of fact and unanimous in its expressions of opinion 
on most of its findings of fact. No appeal is made to me 
from the verdict of the Court on these points where it was 
unanimous. I have, however, gone carefully over the evi- 

10 dence on these points also. I am satisfied that on the whole 
the Court did substantial justice. It should have specifically 
condemned the failure to enforce an efficient night blockade 
at Santiago while Admiral Schley was in command. On the 
other hand, I feel that there is a reasonable doubt whether 

15 he did not move his squadron with sufficient expedition from 
port to port. The Court is a unit in condemning Admiral 
Schley's action on the point where it seems to me he most 
gravely erred ; his " retrograde movement " when he aban- 
doned the blockade, and his disobedience of orders and 

20 misstatement of facts in relation thereto. It should be 
remembered, however, that the majority of these actions 
which the Court censures occurred five weeks or more before 
the fight itself ; and it certainly seems that if Admiral Schley's 
actions were censurable he should not have been left as 

25 second in command under Admiral Sampson. His offenses 
were in effect condoned when he was not called to ac- 
count for them. Admiral Sampson, after the fight, in an 
official letter to the Department alluded for the first time 
to Admiral Schley's " reprehensible conduct " six weeks pre- 

30 viously. If Admiral Schley was guilty of reprehensible con- 
duct of a kind which called for such notice from Admiral 
Sampson, then Admiral Sampson ought not to have left him 
as senior officer of the blockading squadron on the 3d of 
July, when he ( Sampson) steamed away on his proper errand 

35 of communication with General Shafter. 

We can therefore for our present purposes dismiss consid- 



54 Letters. 

eration of so much of the appeal as relates to anything 
except the battle. As regards this, the point raised in the 
appeal is between Admiral Sampson and Admiral Schley, as 
to which was in command, and as to which was entitled to 
the credit, if either of them was really entitled to any unu- 5 
sual and preeminent credit by any special exhibition of 
genius, skill, and courage. The Court could have consid- 
ered both of these questions, but as a matter of fact it unan- 
imously excluded evidence offered upon them, and through 
its President announced its refusal to hear Admiral Sampson's 10 
side at all ; and in view of such exclusion the majority of the 
Court acted with entire propriety in not expressing any opin- 
ion on these points. The matter has, however, been raised 
by the President of the Court. Moreover, it is the point 
upon which Admiral Schley in his appeal lays most stress, 15 
and which he especially asks me to consider. I have there- 
fore carefully investigated this matter also, and have in- 
formed myself upon it from the best sources of information 
at my command. 

The appeal of Admiral Schley to me is not, as to this, the 20 
chief point he raises, really an appeal from the decision of 
the Court of Inquiry. Five-sixths of the appeal is devoted to 
this question of command and credit ; that is, to matter which 
the Court of Inquiry did not consider. It is in effect an 
appeal from the action of President McKinley three years 25 
ago when he sent in the recommendations for promotion for 
the various officers connected with the Santiago squadron, 
basing these recommendations upon his estimate of the 
credit to which the officers were respectively entitled. 
What I have to decide, therefore, is whether or not President 30 
McKinley did injustice in the matter. This necessarily in- 
volves a comparison of the actions of the different command- 
ers engaged. The exhaustive official reports of the action 
leave little to be brought out anew ; but as the question of 
Admiral Sampson's right to be considered in chief command, 35 
which was determined in his favor by President McKinley, 



Theodore Roosevelt. 55 

and later by the Court of Claims, has never hitherto been 
officially raised, I deemed it best to secure statements, of 
the commanders of the five ships (other than the Brooklyn 
and New York, the flagships of the two admirals) which 
5 were actively engaged in the fight. Admiral Philip is dead. 
I quote extracts from his magazine article on the fight, written 
immediately after it occurred ; closing with an extract from 
his- letter to the Secretary of the Navy of February 27, 1899 : 

" It was the blockade that made the battle possible. The battle was 

10 a direct consequence of the blockade, and upon the method and effect- 
iveness of the blockade was very largely dependent the issue of the 
battle. . . . Under the orders of Admiral Sampson the blockade was 
conducted with a success exempHfied by the result. . . . When the 
Spanish Admiral at last made his dash to escape, we were ready — 

15 ready with our men, with our guns, and with our engines. ... It was 
only a few minutes after we had seen the leader of the advancing 
squadron that it became apparent that Cervera's plan was to run 
his ships in column westward in an effort to escape. . . . Before he 
had fairly found himself outside the Morro the entire blockading 

20 squadron — Indiaita, Oregon, Iowa, Brooklyn, and Texas — was pump- 
ing shell into him at such a rate as virtually to decide the issue 
of the battle in the first few moments. All our ships had closed in 
simultaneously. . . . Then occurred the incident which caused me for 
a moment more alarm than anything Cervera did that day. . . . Sud- 

25 denly a whiff of breeze and a lull in the firing lifted the pall, and 
there bearing toward us and across our bows, turning on her port helm, 
with big waves curling over her bows and great clouds of black 
smoke pouring from her funnels, was the Brooklyn. She looked as 
big as half a dozen Great Easterns, and seemed so near that it took 

30 our breath away. ' Back both engines hard I ' went down the tube to 
the astonished engineers, and in a twinkling the old ship was racing 
against herself. The collision which seemed imminent, even if it was 
not, was averted, and as the big cruiser glided past, all of us on the 
bridge gave a sigh of relief. Had the Brooklyn struck us then it 

35 would probably have been the end of the Texas and her half thousand 
men. ... At ten minutes to lo (the Spanish ships had appeared at 
about 9.30) . . . 'CciO. Iowa, Oregon, zx\di TV^faj were pretty well bunched, 
holding a parallel course westward with the Spaniards. The Indi- 
ana was also coming up, well inside of all the others of our squad- 

40 ron, but a little in the rear, owing to her far eastward position at 
starting. . . . About a quarter past lo the Teresa, which had been 



56 



Letters. 



in difficulties from the moment she left the shelter of the Morro, 
turned to seek a beaching place. She was on fire, and we knew 
that she was no longer a quantity to be reckoned with. Five min- 
utes later our special enemy, the Oquendo, also turned in shore. . . . 
The Viscaya kept blazing away viciously, but the pounding she got 
from our four ships, more particularly the Oregon, was too much for 
her, and in half an hour she too headed for the beach. ... I de- 
termined to push on with the Texas. ... It gives me pleasure to be 
able to write that, old ship as she is and not built for speed, the 
Texas held her own and even gained on the Coloit in that chase. . •. ." 
♦'Admiral Sampson was Commander-in-Chief before, during, and after 
the action." 

Captain Clark's statement is as follows : 

" The credit for the blockade which led up to the fight is of course 
Admiral Sampson's. The position of the ships on the morning of the 15" 
fight in a semicircle head-on to the harbor, in consequence of which 
we were able to close in at once, was his. In closing in, that is, in mak- 
ing the first movements, we were obeying his instructions ; though as a 
matter of fact we would all have closed in any way, instructions or no 
instructions. When the Spanish ships came out of the harbor the nav- 20 
igator of my ship saw the New York to the eastward, but I received 
no signal of any kind from the New York during the action, nor was 
she near enough to signal directly to me until after the Colon sur- 
rendered. 

" The engagement may be said to have been divided into three 25 
parts : First, the fight proper, while the Spanish squadron was coming 
out of the harbor and until it was clear of the Diamond Shoals and 
definitely headed westward ; second, the running fight with the already 
damaged vessels as they fled westward, until the Teresa, Oquendo, 
and Viscaya ran ashore ; and, third, the chase of the Colon, dur- 30 
ing which there was practically no fighting. During the first stage I 
did not see the Brooklyn or receive any signals from her. At the 
close of this stage the Oregon had passed the Iowa and Texas, and 
when we burst out of the smoke I saw the four Spanish ships going 
west apparently uninjured, and followed hard after, at the same time 35 
observing the Brooklyn a little ahead and offshore. She was broad- 
side to the Spanish vessels and was receiving the weight of their 
fire, and was returning it. The Brooklyn and the Oregon there- 
after occupied substantially these positions as regards each other, 
being about equidistant from the Spanish ships as we successively 4° 
overtook them, except when the Oregon attempted to close with the 
Oquendo. The heaviest fighting was at the harbor mouth and while 



Theodore Roosevelt. • 57 

the enemy was breaking through or passing our line. Not long after 
the running fight began the Teresa and then the Oquendo turned 
and went ashore, the Viscaya continuing for some distance farther 
before she also was beached. Throughout this running fight the 
5 Brooklyn and Oregon were both hotly engaged, being ahead of 
any of our other ships ; and we then constituted the western and what 
I regard as the then fighting division of our fleet. I considered Com- 
modore Schley in responsible command during this running fight and 
chase so far as I was concerned, and acknowledged and repeated a sig- 

10 nal he had flying, for close action or something of the kind. As, how- 
ever, the problem was perfectly simple, namely, to pursue the Spanish 
ships as I had been doing before I saw the Brooklyn, he did not as 
a matter of fact exercise any control over any movement or action of 
the Oregon, nor did I perform any action of any kind whatever in 

15 obedience to any order from the Brooklyn, neither as to my course 
nor as to my speed, nor as to my gun-fire, during the fight or chase. 

" The Oregon always had fires under all boilers. In spite of the 
speed shown by the Oregon in this fight she had not been and is not 
classed as the fastest ship ; but during all her service, in order that no 

20 scale should form in them, not one of our boilers was used for con- 
densing, though the resulting discomfort for all hands was an addi- 
tional hardship for her commanding ofiicer." 

The following is Admiral Evans's statement : 

" The credit for the blockade, for the arrangement of the ships at 

25 the opening of the fight, and for the first movements forward into 
the fight must of course belong to Admiral Sampson, whose orders 
we were putting into effect. When the fight began Admiral Samp- 
son's ship, the New York, was in plain sight. I saw her turning 
to overtake us. Throughout the fight I considered myself as under 

-70 his command, but I received no orders from him until the Vis- 
caya was aground. Nor did I receive any orders whatever from 
the Brooklyn nor should I have heeded them if I had received 
them, inasmuch as I considered Admiral Sampson to be present and 
in command. 

35 " The heavy fighting was during the time when the Spanish ves- 
sels were coming out of the harbor and before they had stretched 
fairly to the westward. When they thus stretched to the westward 
we all went after them without orders — of course we could do 
nothing else. Until the Teresa and Oquendo ran ashore the lozva 

40 was close behind the Oregon and ahead of the Texas, and all of us 
were firing steadily at the Spanish ships. The Texas then recov- 
ered her speed — for she was dead in the water after having backed 



58 



Letters. 



to avoid the Brooklyn when the Brooklyn turned — and she went ahead 
of the Iowa. Both of us continued to fire at the Viscaya until she 
went ashore. Then I stopped, but the Texas followed the Brooklyri 
and the Oregon after the Colon. 

" When the battle began the New York was not much farther to 5 
the eastward of me than the Brooklyn was to the westward. After 
the Viscaya had grounded the New York overtook me and signaled 
me to return to the mouth of the harbor to prevent any other Spanish 
ship from coming out and attacking the transports. I received no sig- 
nals of any kind from th.& Brooklyn. All we had to do was to close in 10 
on the Spanish squadron as it came out of the harbor, in obedience to 
the orders of Admiral Sampson, and then, when the heaviest fighting 
was over and the Spanish ships were trying to escape to the west, to 
follow them — and of course there was no signal necessary to tell us 
to follow a fleeing enemy. 15 

" The machinery of the Iowa was not in condition to get the best 
speed, though every effort had been made to make it so. Her cylinder 
heads had not been off for more than six months, owing to the service 
she was performing. Her bottom was very foul, as she had not been 
docked for a period of seventeen months. The Indiana was un- 
avoidably in even worse shape. 

" The New York had left the blockading line flying the signal ' Dis- 
regard the movements of the Commander-in-Chief,' a signal frequently 
made, and well understood by the entire fleet. It did not transfer the 
command. No signal was made for the second in command to assume 25 
command of the fleet, which was usually done by the Commander-in- 
Chief before reaching the limit of signal distance when he proposed for 
any reason temporarily to relinquish his command to the next ranking J 
officer." 1 

The following is Admiral Taylor's statement : 30 

"At the beginning of the fight the New York was about as far to 
the eastward of me as the Brooklyn was to the westward. The only 
signal I received from the New York was at the very close of the 
fight, when she signaled to me to return and guard the mouth of the 
harbor so that nothing should come out to attack our transports. I 35 
received no signal whatever from the Brooklyn, and should not have 
heeded any if one had been made, as I considered Admiral Sampson 
present and in command. From her position the Indiaita took 
full part in the actual fight as the Spanish ships came out of the harbor. 
When they ran to the westward the Indiana fell behind, but con- 40 
tinned firing at them and at the torpedo boats until all but the Colon 
were sunk or beached. I saw the Brooklyn turn and run out sea- 



Theodore Roosevelt. 59 

ward, seemingly over a mile, about the time the rear one of the Spanish 
ships turned to the west ; if instead of making this loop the Brooklyn 
had stood straight in towards the Spaniards, as the other American 
ships did, it seemed to me that the fight would have been settled then, 
5 without need of the long chase." 

The following is Commander Wainwright's statement : 

" At the outset of the fight the New York was not much farther 
away from me in one direction than the Brooklyn was in the other 
atid was in plain sight. A signal from Admiral Taylor in connection 

10 with my moving forward to attack the torpedo boats was the only signal 
I received. I made one to the New York just before the last torpedo 
boat sank. The New York at that time was coming up under the 
fire of the batteries, and herself fired a couple of shots at the torpedo 
boat. Of course Admiral Sampson was present and in command. I 

15 received no signals from the Brooklyn, and would not have noticed 
her at all had it not been for the fact that when the other vessels closed 
in she made what has been since called ' the loop,' so that my attention 
was attracted by not seeing the Texas because she stopped, and by 
not seeing the Brooklyn because she went to seaward, away from the 

20 Spanish vessels. In other words, the left or westward part of our line 
was refused, and this attracted my attention, because it seemed to me 
from where I was that this permitted the Spanish vessels to try to 
escape to westward." 

The survey of the damages of the four Spanish war ves- 

25 sels shows that in addition to several score hits by the 6- 

pounder and i -pounder guns of the American fleet, they 

were struck forty-three times by the larger guns of four inches 

calibre and over. The Colon^ which came out inside the 

others and did comparatively little fighting, received but three 

30 of these hits. The other three ships, which bore the brunt 

of the action, received forty among them. Of these forty, 

eleven, according to the report of the board which examined 

into them, were by 4-inch guns, ten by 5-inch guns, four by 

either 4 or 5 inch (the board could not determine which), while 

35 one was by either a 5 or 6 inch, twelve were by 8-inch, and two 

by 1 2-inch guns. All of our big ships except the Texas had 

8-inch guns. Only the Texas Siud Iowa had 12-inch guns. 

The Oregon and Indiana had 13-inch guns; and they and 



6o Letters. 

the Texas had 6-inch guns. The only 4-inch guns were 
on the Iowa\ the only 5-inch guns on the Brookly?i. 
Therefore on the three Spanish ships which did the bulk of 
the fighting, out of the forty large-calibre shots that struck 
them eleven certainly came from the Iowa, ten certainly 5 
came from the Brooklyn, four from either the Iowa or 
the Brooklyn, and two from either the Iowa or the 
Texas, Of the three which struck the Colon two were 
5-inch and must have come from the Brooklyn-, one was 
either a 5-inch or a 6-inch. It must be remembered that the 10 
4 and 5 inch guns were the only quick firers above 6-pound- 
ers in our fleet, and that they were not only much more 
rapidly but much more surely handled than were the larger 
and slower-firing guns. The damage and loss of the Ameri- 
can vessels were trivial. The only loss suffered was aboard 15 
the Brooklyn, where one man was killed and one wounded. 
In damage, the cost of the repairs shows that the Iowa 
suffered most and the Oregon least. The American 
ships engaged possessed a more than twofold material su- 
periority over the Spanish ships, and the difference in the 20 
handling of their guns and their engines was even greater. 
We have just cause to be proud of the vigilance and instant 
readiness our ships displayed, and the workmanlike efficiency 
with which they were handled. The most striking act was 
that of the Gloucester, a converted yacht, which her com- 25 
mander, Wainwright, pushed into the fight through a hail of 
projectiles, any one of which would have sunk her, in order 
that he might do his part in destroying the two torpedo 
boats, each possessing far more than his own offensive 
power. 30 

From the statements of the captains above, from the official 
reports, and from the testimony before the Court of Inquiry, 
the fight can be plotted with absolute certainty in its impor- 
tant outlines, though there is conflict as to minor points. 
When the four Spanish cruisers came out of the harbor the 35 
New York had left her position in the blockading line forty 



Theodore Roosevelt. 6i 

or forty-five minutes before. She had hoisted the signal 
" Disregard the movements of the Commander-in-Chief," but 
had not hoisted the signal to the second in command to take 
charge, which, as appears by the signal book, was sometimes 
5 but not always used when the command was transferred. 
As soon as the engagement began the New York turned 
and steamed back, hoisting a signal to close in, which, how- 
ever, none of the squadron saw. She was in plain sight, and 
not very much farther from the easternmost blockading 

lo ships than the latter were from the Brooklyft, which was the 
westernmost of the line. As soon as the Spanish ships ap- 
peared the five big American blockaders started toward them 
in accordance with the standing orders of Admiral Sampson. 
After this first move each acted purely on his own initiative. 

15 For some minutes the Spanish and American vessels steadily 
approached one another, and the fighting was at its hottest. 
Then the already damaged Spanish ships turned to the west- 
ward, while at the same time the westernmost American 
vessel, the Brookly?i, which was nearest the Spanish line, 

20 turned to the eastward, making a loop or three-quarter circle, 
at the end of which she again headed westward, farther off 
from and farther behind the Spanish vessels than before the 
loop had begun, but still ahead of any of the American 
vessels, although farther outside. The Texas, the next 

25 ship to the Brooklyn, either was or conceived herself to be 
put in such jeopardy by the Brooklyn's turn toward her 
that she backed her engines, coming almost or quite to a 
standstill ; so that both the Oregon and the Iowa, which 
were originally to the eastward of her, passed her, and 

30 it was some time after she again started before she regained 
her former position relatively to the Spanish vessels. The 
Spanish vessels had straightened out in column for the west, 
the Colon going inside of the others and gradually forging 
ahead of them, without suffering much damage. The two 

35 torpedo boats, which had followed them out of the harbor, 
were now destroyed by the fire of the rearmost of the 



62 Letters. 

American big vessels and of the Gloucester, which headed 
straight in for them, paying no more heed to their quick-fire 
guns than to the heavy artillery of the forts, to which she 
was also exposed. 

In the running fight which followed, until the Teresa, 5 
Ogue?tdo, and Viscaya were destroyed, the Indiaiia grad- 
ually dropped behind, although she continued to fire until 
the last of the three vessels went ashore. The Brooklyn 
was ahead of any of the other American vessels on a 
course outside theirs ; she was nearly broadside on to the 10 
Spaniards. The Oregon, Iowa, and Texas were all close to- 
gether and actively engaged throughout this running fight. 
The Brooklyn and Oregon, followed at some distance by the 
Texas, then continued in chase of the Colon which went 
nearly thirty miles farther before she also went ashore. Dur- 15 
ing this chase of the Colon there was practically no fighting. 

These are the facts as set forth above in the statements of 
the captains, and elsewhere in their official reports and testi- 
mony. They leave no room for doubt on any important 
point. 20 

The question of command is in this case nominal and 
technical. Admiral Sampson's ship, the New York, was 
seen at the outset of the fight from all the other ships except 
the Brooklyn. Four of these five ship captains have testi- 
fied that they regarded him as present and in command. 25 
He signaled " Close in " to the fleet as soon as the first 
Spanish ship appeared, but his signal was not seen by any 
American vessel. He was actually under fire from the forts, 
and himself fired a couple of shots, at the close of the action 
with the torpedo boats, in addition to signalling the 30 
Indiana just at the close of the action. But during the 
action not a single order from him was received by any of 
the ships that were actively engaged. 

Admiral Schley at the outset of the action hoisted the two 
signals of " Clear ship " and " Close in," which was simply 35 
carrying out the standing orders of Admiral Sampson as to 



Theodore Roosevelt. 63 

what should be done if the enemy's ships attempted to break 
out of the harbor. Until after the close of the first portion of 
the fight at the mouth of the harbor, and until after he had 
made his loop and the Spanish ships were fleeing to the 
5 westsvard, not another American ship noticed a signal from 
him. When the western pursuit had begun the Oregoit^ 
and the Oregon only, noticed and repeated one of his 
signals of command. The captain of the Oregon then 
regarded him as in command, but did not in any shape or 

10 way execute any movement or any action of any kind what- 
soever in accordance with any order from him. 

In short, the question as to which of the two men, Admiral 
Sampson or Admiral Schley, was at the time in command, is 
of merely nominal character. Technically Sampson com- 

15 manded the fleet, and Schley, as usual, the western division. 
The actual fact, the important fact, is that after the battle 
was joined not a helm was shifted, not a gun was fired, not a 
pound of steam was put on in the engine-room aboard any 
ship actively engaged, in obedience to the order of either 

20 Sampson or Schley, save on their own two vessels. It was a 
captain's fight. 

Therefore the credit to which each of the two is entitled 
rests on matters apart from the claim of nominal command 
over the squadron ; for so far as the actual fight was con- 

25 cerned neither one nor the other in fact exercised any com- 
mand. Sampson was hardly more than technically in the 
fight. His real claim for credit rests upon his work as Com- 
mander-in-Chief ; upon the excellence of the blockade ; upon 
the preparedness of the squadron ; upon the arrangement of 

30 the ships head-on in a semicircle around the harbor ; and the 
standing orders in accordance with which they instantly 
moved to the attack of the Spaniards when the latter ap- 
peared. For all these things the credit is his. 

Admiral Schley is rightly entitled — as is Captain Cook — 

35 to the credit of what the Brooklyn did in the fight. On 
the whole she did well; but I agree with the unanimous 



64 Letters. 

finding of the three admirals who composed the Court of 
Inquiry as to the " loop." It seriously marred the Brook- 
lyn's otherwise excellent record, being in fact the one 
grave mistake made by any American ship that day. Had 
the Brooklyn turned to the westward, that is, in the same 5 
direction that the Spanish ships were going, instead of in 
the contrary direction, she would undoubtedly have been in 
more "dangerous proximity" to them. But it would have 
been more dangerous for them as well as for her ! This 
kind of danger must not be too nicely weighed by those 10 
whose trade it is to dare greatly for the honor of the flag. 
Moreover, the danger was certainly not as great as that 
which, in the selfsame moment, menaced Wainwright's 
fragile craft as he drove forward against the foe. It was 
not in my judgment as great as the danger to which the 15 
Texas was exposed by the turn as actually made. It 
certainly caused both the Brooklyn and the Texas mate- 
rially vo lose position compared to the fleeing Spanish ves- 
sels. But after the loop had once been taken Admiral 
Schley handled the Brooklyn manfully and well. She and 20 
the Oregon were thenceforth the headmost of the American 
vessels — though the Iowa certainly, and seemingly the 
Texas also, did as much in hammering to a standstill the 
Viscaya, Oquendo, and Teresa ; while the Indiana did all her 
eastward position and crippled machinery permitted. In the 25 
chase of the Colon the Brooklyn and Oregon share the credit 
between them. 

Under such circumstances it seems to me that the recom- 
mendations of President McKinley were eminently proper, 
and that so far as Admirals Sampson and Schley were con- 30 
cerned it would have been unjust for him to have made other 
recommendations. Personally I feel that in view of Captain 
Clark's long voyage in the Oregon and the condition in 
which he brought her to the scene of service, as well as the 
way in which he actually managed her before and during the 35 
fight, it would have been well to have given him the same 



Theodore Roosevelt. 65 

advancement that was given Wainwright. But waiving this, 
it is evident that Wainwright was entitled to receive more 
than any of the other commanders ; and that it was just to 
Admiral Sampson that he should receive a greater advance 

5 in numbers than Admiral Schley — there was nothing done 
in the battle that warranted any unusual reward for either. 
In short, as regards Admirals Sampson and Schley, I find 
that President McKinley did substantial justice, and that 
there would be no warrant for reversing his action. 

10 Both Admiral Sampson and Admiral Schley are now on 
the retired list. In concluding their report the members of 
the Court of Inquiry, Admirals Dewey, Benham, and Ram- 
say, unite in stating that they recommend that no further 
action be had in the matter. With this recommendation I 

15 most heartily concur. There is no excuse whatever from 
either side for any further agitation of this unhappy contro- 
versy. To keep it alive would merely do damage to the 
Navy and to the country. 



EDITORIALS. 



Nos. la and lb illustrate the brief impersonal summary; No. II, 
brief comment ; Nos. Ill and IV, the important part which satire and 
irony may play in editorial writing. Nos. V and VI endeavor, mainly, 
to make clear the significance of current conditions. Nos. VII, VIII, 
IX, X, XI, aim to mould and lead public opinion: the first is the parti- 
san editorial addressed to a prejudiced audience ; the second treats by 
analysis and rebuttal a topic interesting the readers of the paper; the third 
summarizes argumentatively a discussion printed in another column; 
the fourth and fifth influence by a shrewd selection of ideas and 
eloquent persuasion. Nos. XII and XIII illustrate the biographical 
editorial ; and Nos. XIV and XV, the editorial on literary or general 
topics. The first two show that one kind of editorial is but the eulogy 
in brief ; the other two that the editorial on a literary subject is but 
another name for the essay. 



la. 
EDITORIALS. 

The Spectator, Sept. j, igo^. 

Mr. AUeyne Ireland publishes in the Ti?nes of Thursday an 
account of what has been accomplished by the Brooke family 
in their sovereignty of Sarawak. It is perhaps a little too 
purely appreciative ; but the facts are sufficiently remark- 

5 able. The two successive Rajahs, Sir James and Sir Charles, 
have in fifty years terminated the chronic feud between the 
Malays and the Dyaks ; have established a Supreme Council 
of Europeans and natives which attracts general confidencfe ; 
have founded a capital, Kuching, as orderly and pleasant as 

lo Singapore; have created a regular European Civil Service; 
and have maintained peace practically unbroken for half a 
century. Sarawak is in fact one of the best governed of 
tropical dependencies. The fact, interesting in itself, as prov- 
ing that Englishmen can exercise absolute power without 

15 becoming tyrants, is especially instructive because in Sarawak 
Sir Charles Brooke is trying the great experiment of building 
slowly on a basis of native ideas, employing natives freely — 
they have a majority on the Supreme Council — and carry- 
ing out the rooted Asiatic idea that every man with a griev- 

20 ance has a right of direct appeal to the sovereign. Sir 
Charles is, of course, growing into years ; but his son, the 
heir-apparent, is being thoroughly trained as a local Civil 
servant. 



lb. 

The Nation, Sept. 10, 1903. 
Latest advices from our " Commission of Exchange " are to 
25 the effect that the members will return home next week and 

69 



70 Editorials. 

make a report. As to their main purpose, which was to 
bring about a par of exchange between gold and silver-using 
countries at the ratio of 32 to i, it has notoriously failed. 
Failure was freely predicted before they sailed. Then, rumor 
has it, they directed their efforts toward means for coercing 5 
or inducing China to adopt a stable national coinage system. 
This ought not to have been difficult, seeing that China was 
one of the Powers that prompted us to appoint this very Com- 
mission. By way of helping China to adopt a stable coinage 
system it is said that our Commissioners (but not their Mexi- 10 
can colleagues) labored for the relief of China from " the in- 
demnity pressure." We can hardly credit such a report, since 
that would be an excursion into the field of diplomacy. 
However that may be, it is evident that no progress was made 
toward reducing the indemnity. It seems that some pious 15 
but divergent opinions were collected as to what China ought 
to do with her coinage system. England, France, and Russia 
think that China ought to have a national currency in place 
of the existing hodge-podge, but that it should be on the sil- 
ver basis. Russia and France think that the coinage should 20 
be on Government account, while England agrees with Mr. 
Bryan that the coinage should be free ; that is, that the mint 
should receive all the silver brought to it by private persons, 
and coin it for them. Our Commissioners urged that it (the 
Chinese silver coinage) be placed upon the gold basis at the 25 
ratio of 32 to I. It is said that Germany, Belgium and Hol- 
land agreed " in theory " with our Commissioners. Finally, a 
common understanding was reached that China's popular 
coinage should be silver (it is now copper), and that it should 
be raised to the gold parity as soon as practicable. This is 30 
a conclusion that is not Hkely to be disputed by anybody 
except the Chinese. How they will look at it remains to be 
seen. 



Editorials. 



II. 



The Nation, Sept. lo, 1903. 
President Roosevelt was both paradoxical and happily- 
inspired when he chose for the subject of his Labor Day 
address at Syracuse the community of interest between all 
Americans. Before the sturdy farmers of Central New York 
5 it was easy to dwell upon that intimate bond which from 
great capitalist to day-laborer links inextricably the fortunes 
of all citizens of our free state ; that doctrine was familiar to 
his hearers. But the address was, none the less, a courageous 
as well as dignified utterance ; it was really delivered to the 

10 labor unions, and it took issue manfully with pretty much all 
the beliefs which they and their holiday stand for. The Pres- 
ident's counsel to those who preach the war of classes might 
have been more emphatic ; it is to any careful reader of his 
speech remarkably clear. Briefly, he upheld the old Ameri- 

15 can doctrine of individualism. The Government declines to 
deal with "butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers" as 
such ; it recognizes only citizens. The whole speech was an 
impassioned plea against that spirit of caste which confines 
the individual's allegiance to the imagined interests of a class, 

20 while subordinating to the artificial average prescribed for 
the class all his higher ambitions as an individual. Said Mr. 
Roosevelt, pursuing this theme: "We can keep our Govern- 
ment on a sane and healthy basis, we can make and keep our 
social system what it should be, only on condition of judging 

25 each man, not as a member of a class, but on his worth as 
a man. " (This apothegm deserves to be repeated whenever 
generalizations about racial incapacity are produced to jus- 
tify withholding from individuals the rewards of proved ca- 
pacity.) 



72 Editorials, 



III. 
CHARLES T. CONGDON. 

Train's Troubles. 

N. Y. Tribune, Oct. 2, 1862. 

[" In the protracted, arduous struggle which resulted in the over- 
throw and extinction of American Slavery, many were honorably conspic- 
uous : some by eloquence ; more by diligence ; others by fearless, 
absorbing, single-eyed devotion to the great end; but he who most 
skilfully, effectively, persistently wielded the trenchant blade of Satire 5 
was the writer of the following essays [Charles T. Congdon]. Lowell's 
' Hosea Bigelow ' and ' Birdofredom Sawin,' were admirable in their 
way, and did good service to the anti-Slavery cause ; but the essays 
herewith presented, appearing at intervals throughout the later acts of 
the great drama, and holding up to scorn and ridicule the current phases 10 
of pro-Slavery unreason and absurdity, being widely circulated and 
eagerly read, exerted a vast, resistless influence on the side of Freedom and 
Humanity. . . . Never compromising a principle nor truckling to a prej- 
udice, he turned the laugh on the jesters and set the public to mocking 
the mockers. ..." Introduction, XXI-XXII, by Horace Greeley, 15 
of Tribune Essays, C. T. Congdon, 1869.] 

One of the most painful delusions of the day is that of 
Mr. George Francis Train, who imagines that the restora- 
tion of the American Union depends upon his eloquence. 
He isn't the first man who has mistaken volubility for argu- 20 
ment. A mountebank may prattle in a fair from morn till dewy 
eve, but it is only to fools that he sells his corn-plasters and 
cough-drops. He may no doubt be overheard by many wise 
men, but that does not make his medicines infallible as he 
would have you believe; nor does. the fact that Mr. Train 25 
writes for the newspapers prove that he is a statesman for 
men who are forever writing to the newspapers are always 
in danger of bringing up in a mad-house. If Mr. Train 
could only for a moment comprehend how infinitely silly his 
productions appear to sensible men, he would we think be 30 
mortified into something like reason, and would write no 



Charles T. Congdon. 73 

more letters like this absurd one now before us, which is ad- 
dressed to Charles Sumner and others, and which begins 
fiercely : — " Conspirators ! " As a general rule we suspect that 
a man who writes confirmed slipslop, and is never easy un- 

5 less he is gyrating absurdly through all the gymnastics of 
rhetoric is hardly a safe person to call to the rescue of an 
empire. It may be prudently assumed that a Senator of the 
United States is in no need of Mr. George Francis Train's 
instruction, and is quite above his reprehension — and for 

10 that matter, of his comprehension also. Mr. Train's only 
retort must be : " Well, neither does the Honorable Senator 
comprehend me!" — and for Mr. Train, the reply would be 
uncommonly just and sensible. 

Mr. Train charges the gentleman to whom he addresses 

15 this lurid letter with. " a damnable conspiracy against three 
races of men " — against the Irish, "by placing an inferior 
race alongside of them in the cornfield," and against the Ne- 
groes who will all be murdered by their masters, according 
to Mr. G. F. T., unless the Abolitionists cease their provoca- 

20 tions. But one of Mr. Train's vaticinations fortunately 
knocks the other on the head. If the Negroes are all to be 
murdered by their desperate masters, may not the fastidious 
George spare himself all painful apprehensions of anybody 
being compelled to work alongside the Black in any corn- 

25 field or other field in this hemisphere ? Massacred Negroes 
don't dig, to the best of our knowledge, Mr. Train ! 

There is a race of men — it is that to which Mr. Train be- 
longs — who make a living, not by hoeing and digging, but 
by gabbling about the infinite superiority of being white — 

30 by denouncing those who cannot see the exquisite equity of 
Human Servitude — by lecturing on Politics, as other men 
lecture on Mesmerism and Table-Tipping — who convert 
their country's agony into a raree-show and go about enter- 
taining people with the public misfortunes — who achieve 

35 notoriety by rehashing stale platitudes and rejuvenating 
venerable libels — who were unknown yesterday and will be 



74 Editorials. 

forgotten to-morrow — and to this race Negro Emancipation 
will prove fatal, for it will ruin their business, which is that 
of frightening honest folk and manufacturing bugbears. 

Mr. George Francis Train must not think that we mean to 
be disrespectful. On the contrary, when we put him in this 
race, we are paying him the greatest compliment of all he 
ever received in his life, if we except those which he has 
paid to himself. We are ranking him with Doctors of Di- 
vinity and Members of Congress and Ethnologists and Poli- 
ticians of the most venerable variety, who, when Emancipa- 
tion has finished them, will hail him as a brother in 
misfortune and will go hand in hand with him to oblivion ! 

It may be a satisfaction to the Cabinet to know that Mr. 
Train, in this very letter, announces his generous intention 
of standing by it to the end. He professes the most un- 
bounded affection for Mr. Seward; but if that gentleman be 
as shrewd as he has the reputation of being, he will hasten 
to beseech Mr. Train to write him no more letters. It isn't 
every Administration that can stand Mr. Train's admiration. 
And so much for George Francis ! 



IV. 
W. C. BRYANT. 

Friar Tuck Legislation. 

Evening Post, N. Y., Apr. 26, 1844. 

•« A famous thief was Robin Hood; 
But Scotland had a thief as good : 
It was — it was the great Rob Roy." 

Old Ballad. 

A speaker, Mr. Thomas Gisborne, at one of the recent 25 
meetings of the Anti-Corn League, made a happy allusion to 
what he called Friar Tuck Legislation. He had in his mind 



W. C. Bryant. 75 

the story which is told in some of the old chronicles of Robin 
Hood and his merry foresters when they were once assem- 
bled in congress to deliberate upon the proper distribution 
of a pretty large amount of spoils. These legislators, per- 

5 suaded by the soft and honied words of Friar Tuck, left him 
to frame a law for the proper adjustment of their claims. 
When the law was reported by the able committee which had 
it in charge, it became instantly evident that Friar Tuck him- 
self w^ould get much the largest share. Public opinion, con- 

10 tinues the history, thereupon went against the holy man and 
a league was formed to resist the iniquity of his decision. 
Now what did the good friar in this emergency ? 
Why he met the people boldly and openly, and said : " For 
whose benefit are laws made I should like to know ? " And 

15 then immediately answering his own question, lest some silly 
objector might give it another turn, he went on : " First for 
the benefit of those who make them and afterward as it may 
happen." Nor did the disinterested judge stop there, but 
he proceeded : " Am I not the law-maker, and shall I not profit 

20 by my own law ? " The story runs we believe, that the good 

man next quietly pocketed his share of the booty, and left his 

unreasonable companions to make the best of what remained. 

Friar Tuck represents a class ; he is a type and pattern of 

a large circle of imitators ; his peculiar method of legislation 

25 is not obsolete. There are many persons at this day whose 
morality seems to be framed according to the same standard. 
Members of the United States Congress, for instance, who 
pass tariff laws to put money into their own pockets, are the 
legitimate descendants of Friar Tuck. 

30 It is quite remarkable how many are the points of resem- 
blance between this legislation of Sherwood Forest and that 
of the manufacturers at Washington. In the first place, the 
plunder to be distributed is raised from the people ; in either 
case without their being formally consulted ; in the one by 

35 high duties, in the other by the strong arm. Then the per- 
sons who take upon themselves to decide how this plunder is 



76 



Editorials. 



to be divided, like Friar Tuck, have a deep interest in the 
result, and generally manage to appropriate to themselves 
the largest share. They are the owners of manufacturing 
capital, and they continue to make this capital return an 
enormous interest. 5 

" For what benefit " they gravely ask " are laws made ? " 
and then answer " First for the benefit of those who make 
them and afterward as it may happen." Let us impose high 
duties ; let us fill our pockets ; let us who make the laws 
take all that we can get — and as to the people, the mass 10 
of laborers and consumers, why, that's as it may happen. 
This is virtually the reasoning of one sort of our just and 
disinterested legislators. 

But there is one point in which the resemblance does not 
hold. Friar Tuck was a bold, straightforward, open-mouthed 1 5 
statesman, willing to proclaim his principles, and justify the 
consequences to which they led. His followers in Congress 
act upon precisely the same principles, but assign another 
reason. He avowed that he wished to cram his pocket; 
they hold up some mock pretence of public good. " Shall I 20 
not benefit by my own law ? " he said, and gathered up his 
gains ; but they gather the gain and leave the reason unsaid, 
or rather hypocritically resort to some more palatable 
reason. The advantage of consistency is on the side of 
Robin Hood's priests. There is a frankness in his philos- 25 
ophy which throws the sneaking duplicity of the legislators 
of the cotton mills quite into the shade. 



V. 
Herreshoff^s Achievement. 

The Nat? 071, Sept. 10, 1903. 
That this year's races for the America's Cup, now ended, 
have proved a grievous disappointment to all interested in 



HerreshofF's Achievement. jj 

the sport, has been patent for some time. The failure of the 
third Shamrock has been so great as to make it evident 
that somebody has blundered, and blundered egregiously. 
Whether this is due to a miscalculation of the English yacht's 
5 sailing length and a consequent failure to get her down to 
her racing lines, or to a different cause, will probably not be 
known for some time — not until after the acuteness of the 
disappointment has somewhat passed away. Only once — 
in the second contest — did Shajurock come up to the just 

lo expectation of those who saw and studied her powerful lines 
and beautiful hull. Then, even with her smaller sail-spread, 
she pressed Reliance hotly — a performance so at variance 
with the rest of her exhibitions as not to be wholly explained 
by the weather conditions. For the rest, it must be believed 

15 that Columbia could have won a majority of five contests 
with her, and that Shamrock II could likewise have led her 
over the course. Mortifying as this showing is. Sir Thomas 
Lipton has every reason to be proud of his own bearing and 
of the sportsman-like manner in which the races were sailed 

20 to the bitter end. He has allowed nothing to mar the good 
feeling of the contest, and has scrupulously refrained from 
assigning any reasons for his discomfiture, except that he 
had the poorer boat. Nothing better can be said of him 
than that he has heightened the excellent impression made 

25 upon the American public in the two previous series of 
races. 

But this unexpectedly poor showing of Shamrock takes no 
lustre from the laurels fairly earned by Mr. Nathaniel G. 
Herreshoff. For ten years past he has devoted himself to 

30 the problem of turning out one 90-footer after another which 
should each be faster than the last. Barring the uncertainty 
in regard to Constiticf ion's actual powers, he has succeeded 
so well as to win from Sir Thomas Lipton and the greater part 
of the English press an extraordinary tribute — the declara- 

35 tion that it is useless to compete with him. Limited to a 
given water-line length, he has year after year managed to 



78 Editorials. 

produce vessels of greater and greater sail-spread and with 
more and more power in their hulls. It does not detract 
from the sum of his achievements that, during this decade of 
triumph, he has profited by the experiments of another. It 
is altogether questionable whether Reliance would have pos- 5 
sessed all her speedy qualities had there been no Independ- 
ence. But the latter's designer, Mr. B. B. Crowninshield, is 
willing to admit that, while marvellously fast under certain 
conditions, she was, all in all, not a success as a racer. Mr. 
HerreshofiE had the skill to profit by Mr. Crowninshield's in- 10 
novations and to avoid his mistakes. He has never sought 
to deny Mr. Crowninshield's leadership in the direction of 
the exaggerated above-water hull — of the scow-like body 
with an immense fin — but he himself has given to the type 
what is probably its ultimate power and refinement. 15 

As far as this class of boat is concerned, Reliance must 
be considered the climax. In the face of Mr. Herreshoff 's gen- 
ius it would certainly be hazardous to declare off-hand that 
he could not successfully carry the racing machine one step 
further. Fortunately, the new measurement rules of the 20 
New York Yacht Club have sounded the death-knell of the 
type. Should there be another challenge for the Cup from 
any quarter, Mr. Herreshoff must give his attention to a new 
problem. That all forms of yachting will profit by this 
change we firmly believe. For two decades we have been 25 
witnessing a scientific digression — a tour de force — by 
which the cruising yachtsman and the merchant ship-owner 
have profited but little and have been injured a good deal, 
so far as they have attempted to imitate the Herreshoff ma- 
chines. When Mr. Crowninshield built the only seven- 30 
master afloat, he returned at once to the clipper bow and the 
moderate stern overhang — a fact which confutes those who 
profess to see enormous gains to naval architecture in gen- 
eral from the cup contests. And hundreds of small, shallow- 
bodied, fin-keeled and over-sparred imitations of the great 35 
machines force their owners into harbors when the breezes 



The Isthmian Canal. 79 

freshen, if they do not actually endanger the lives of their 
crews. 

From all this there should be a reversion to the sensible 
and seaworthy cruising type. Future Cup challengers and 
5 defenders will, we hope, be stanch enough to cross the ocean 
under their normal canvas, as did A77ierica and many of her 
successors. We trust, too, that Thursday's race marks the 
end of the great singlestickers, with their costly bronze hulls 
and fragile rigging. Smaller sloops or racing schooners af- 

10 ford as much sport and give the designers as much scope as 
the vessels that now cost half a million dollars or more to 
build, fit out, and race during a five months' season. In- 
deed, the enormous sums spent on this year's racers have 
caused much uneasiness and much justifiable criticism. 

15 Certainly, no one can contend that the benefits resulting to 
yacht racing or to naval designing are sufficient to counter- 

. balance such unduly extravagant expenditure. If the new 
rules and the outcome of this year's contest together mark 
the end of yacht racing by aid of millionaires' syndicates, 

20 the futile efforts of Shamrock III will mark a turning-point 
of great importance in yachting history. 



VI. 
The Isthmian Canal. 

The Independent., Oct. i, 1903. 
Colombia has rejected the canal treaty signed by her 
representative at Washington, and her Congress is languidly 
considering a bill authorizing President Marroquin to nego- 
25 tiate a new treaty upon conditions which the United States 
will never accept. This is the situation at Bogota, as dis- 
closed by the latest dispatches from that remote capital. At 
the time when these words are written the news from Bogota 



8o Editorials. 

shows that at 5 p.m. on the 2 2d, the last day for a ratifica- 
tion of the Hay-Herran treaty, no action upon the pending 
bill had been taken. The treaty was dead. If no request 
for an extension of time was made in the remaining hours of 
that day, what ought President Roosevelt to do ? He is not c 
required by the Spooner Act to turn immediately from 
Panama to Nicaragua and to make a treaty for a canal on 
the Nicaragua route. This will not be the alternative until 
he shall have failed to obtain from Colombia the needed 
rights and territorial control within " a reasonable time " and 10 
upon " reasonable terms." He is empowered to decide that 
more time should be used in striving to reach a satisfactory 
agreement with Colombia. We hope that he will so decide, 
and that he will spare no effort to convince the Colombian 
Government that its own interests as well as those of the 15 
entire civilized world require it to accept the liberal terms 
of the treaty negotiated and ratified at Washington. 

We fear, however, that this cannot be accomplished unless 
some plan shall be devised for intimate and friendly confer- 
ences of the two contracting Powers. So far as we can 20 
learn, the causes of the rejection of the treaty at Bogota were 
as follows : the opposition of a political party or faction to 
the President now in office, who accepted the agreement; 
the resentment of certain sensitive and impulsive Spanish- l| 
American legislators, because it seemed to them that our 25 
State Department's friendly warning against any substantial 
amendment of the treaty was an attempt to restrain their 
liberty of action ; a conviction that our Government would 
consent to pay $10,000,000 more, and that $10,000,000 
could be extorted from the French company ; a failure of 30 
the Colombian politicians to agree among themselves as to a 
division of the spoils ; Colombian ignorance of our ways and 
purposes, and the lack of means of easy and frequent com- 
munication between the two capitals. We have seen no 
indication that legislators at Bogota were corrupted by 35 
persons or corporations desiring to prevent the construction 



The Isthmian Canal. 8i 

of a canal. There is no more evidence of such interference 
than there is in support of Mr. Henry Watterson's remark- 
able assertion that our Senate was induced to prefer the 
Panama route by a bribe of half the sum to be paid to the 
5 French company — " $20,000,000 for the thieves in France 
and $20,000,000 for the thieves in America," — or of a 
suggestion that any Washington legislator's labors in behalf 
of the Nicaragua route have been stimulated by a desire to 
share in the sum that might be realized hereafter upon the 

10 claims of the Maritime Canal Company. What has taken 
place at Bogota can be fully explained, we think, by a 
knowledge of the character and ways of the Spanish- 
American politician, and by the condition of a country that 
has been racked for four years by bloody revolution, and 

15 whose currency is worth less than one cent on the dollar. 

The Isthmian canal ought to be made on the Panama 
route. We desire to construct it there and are ready to 
begin the work. It is especially for the interest of Colombia 
that the canal should be in that place. We shall not take 

20 possession of the Isthmus by force, nor shall we pretend 
that the old treaty of 1846 authorizes us to make there a 
waterway for ships. We shall not incite the people of 
Panama to revolt. If, however, those people should establish 
and maintain their independence without any assistance 

25 from us, and should offer to us the privileges which Colombia 
has withheld, we might be able to accept them honorably. 
The merits of the Panama route, when it is compared with 
the route in Nicaragua, are so manifest, in our opinion, that 
all honorable methods should be used in an attempt to take 

30 advantage of them. 

What is needed now is an opportunity for friendly con- 
sultation and argument. In this matter, Colombia and the 
United States have seemed to be separated by almost as 
much space as yawns between two planets. There has been 

35 no contact except by means of the two Ministers, and these 
have not been very efficient agents of communication. When 



82 Editorials. 

there was danger in Havana of a serious misunderstanding 
of the aims and purposes of the United States, we suggested 
that the entire Cuban Congress, or a Commission represent- 
ing it, be brought to Washington for a friendly conference. 
A Commission was sent from Havana, and much good was 5 
accomplished by its visit. Our Government ought to know 
the views and the sentiment of Colombia with respect to this 
canal question ; the leaders of Colombian opinion should 
have a better knowledge of our views and purposes than 
they now possess. This mutual enlightenment, so much to 10 
be desired at this time, when perhaps the lack of it is the 
only thing that prevents an agreement as to the canal, might 
be gained by a conference or by the efforts of a joint Com- 
mission, sitting in some neutral city, or for a time at one 
capital and then at the other. The President and Congress 15 
would find it profitable to consider such a plan for promoting 
international friendship, dispelling harmful illusions and prej- 
udices, and smoothing the way for that great undertaking, 
the benefits of which Colombia is now inclined to reject. 
The canal is to be an agency for the promotion of the peace 20 
and well-being of mankind ; the construction of it should be 
the result of peaceful and honorable agreement, and not of 
intrigue, revolution or war. 



VII. 
Revelations in South Africa. 

The Speaker, Sept. 5, 1903. 
It is easy after the publication of the minutes of the evi- 
dence taken before the Commission on the War to under- 25 
stand why that evidence was taken in private. If this 
amazing series of revelations had been made public day by 
day the storm of indignation would have been fatal to the 
Government. As a story of stupidity, incapacity, and frivo- 



Revelations in South Africa. 83 

lous light-heartedness it will match the wildest histories of 
the madness which seizes men intent on conquest. The 
disease consists of seeing only what the victim wants to see. 
The men who made the Boer war and the men who made 
5 the American war did not lack advisers who warned them 
of the truth, but in both cases they treated such advisers 
as another good Imperialist treated Michaiah, the son of 
Imlah. It would be easy to fill volumes with the minor 
follies of the war, the use of swords that would not cut, the 

10 choice of unmounted men, the neglect of maps, and all the 
other thousand and one incidents that show how little a 
military career attracts of the intelligence of the country, and 
how soon a little clamour and excitement disperses what in^ 
telligence there is in the governing classes. Lord Lans- 

15 downe, Mr. Chamberlain, Mr. Balfour are all intelligent 
men, but all these intelligent men, when put together, con- 
stitute a body so unintelligent that its proceedings read like 
a comic opera. Nobody consults anybody else. The Com- 
mander-in-Chief learns the m.ost important decisions by 

20 accident. Arrangements are m.ade or left to make them- 
selves in a happy-go-lucky spirit, and all the time these great 
personages, who knew as little as the Times ^ which thought 
the first army corps would finish the war, or almost as little 
as the Daily Mail, which thought the first engagement 

25 would settle the Boers, were posing as the sober and circum- 
spect leaders of the nation, absorbed in the cares and prepa- 
rations for its struggle. It would probably be a shock to Mr. 
Balfour, Avho understands by a traitor a man who loves his 
country well enough to make it hate him, to be told that a 

30 statesman who leaves anything to chance, or commits his 
country to such an adventure without mastering the facts, has 
forfeited all claims to the name of patriot. We hope that, 
when Parliament meets, the Liberal Part}^ will see that the 
sternest judgment is passed on the criminal negligence of 

35 Lord Lansdowne, and the criminal levity of Mr. Chamber- 
lain and Mr. Balfour, 



84 Editorials. 

We do not propose to pursue this pitiful story of incom- 
petence through all its dismal chapters. It is all summed up 
in the one quality which was predominant in the nation 
three years ago, the refusal to see facts that it did not wish 
to see. The two chief dramatis personcB in South Africa 5 
were Sir Alfred Milner and Sir William Butler. Sir Alfred 
Milner told the nation what it wanted to hear. Sir William 
Butler told it what it did not want to hear. The result was 
inevitable. Sir Alfred Milner became a hero, a peer, an 
autocrat as complete as General Bobrikoff. Sir William 10 
Butler was slandered in the Daily Mail, publicly attacked 
by a Cabinet Minister, recalled from South Africa, and the 
authorities decided that, though he commanded the Western 
District, it would not be safe to allow him to command the 
troops when Queen Victoria paid her visit to Bristol. Sir 15 
Alfred Milner, as Mr. Chamberlain told Sir William Butler 
in a despatch censuring that officer for expressing the opin- 
ion, as Acting High Commissioner, that the Raid party was 
not to be trusted, that a policy of provocation would mean 
war, and that war would-be a far more serious matter than 20 
the Government supposed, represented the Government's 
own policy. Sir William Butler was accordingly ignored or 
censured whenever he said anything that did not suit exactly 
the Government's book. If his strategical recommendations 
had been followed, it is almost everywhere admitted that we 25 
should have escaped those big disasters which befell us just as 
he predicted. But that strategy did not take the fancy of the 
Government, so they ignored his recommendations and actu- 
ally discussed with Sir Alfred Milner by telegram on August 
3, 1899, the occupation of Laing's Nek without even com- 30 
municating with the commanding officer about a movement 
that would have meant immediate v/ar. The Government 
had no ears for what Sir William Butler told them, so they 
decided, as General Buller shows, that "the Orange Free 
State was to be left out of account." Sir Wilham Butler, 35 
whose evidence is so damaging that the Times has decided 



Revelations in South Africa. 85 

it was wiser not to reproduce it, warned the Government, 
when he was asked to warn them by the Cape Ministry, 
against the insinuating stories of the Raid party, and said 
the war would be a very serious matter, a civil war. Lord 
5 Milner thought it so light a matter that on August 31, three 
days after Mr. Schreiner, his Prime Minister, had strongly 
deprecated war, he telegraphed to Mr. Chamberlain : " The 
purport of all represe?itatio7is made to me is to urge prompt 
and decided action." 

10 For Lord Milner the party of the Raid was British South 
Africa, and Sir William Butler was sacrificed to that party 
just as another soldier, Sir Ralph Abercromby, was sacri- 
ficed to the ascendency party in Ireland more than a century 
ago. And who led that party? If we turn to Colonel 

15 Kekewich's evidence we learn that Mr. Rhodes — the great 
Englishman, as Mr. Chamberlain called him, the hero whose 
public crimes were commemorated at St. Paul's, and ap- 
plauded in half the pulpits of the country — threatened to 
surrender Kimberley il the British army refused to regard 

20 the protection of his person and his diamonds as its first 
duty in the war. Sir William Butler is not the man to ex- 
tract any satisfaction from the calamities of his country or 
the overthrow of freedom, but he may at least be assured, 
after his patient contempt for very ignorant slander, that he 

25 alone emerges from this disastrous chapter with his credit 
unimpaired. He dared to tell the truth. The Government, 
like the nation, had no eyes for the truth ; they only saw 
what the party of the Raid wished them to see ; they did not 
see the vast veldt, or the long precarious lines, or the cruel 

30 warfare against women, or the relentless and passionate 
devotion with which simple men defend the freedom of their 
country. 

All this gigantic and irreparable blunder, we shall be told, 
is an old story, and it is too much to expect the nation, after 

35 the strain of three years' war and after the Bacchantic ex- 
citement with which it celebrated at last the long-delayed 



86 Editorials. 

destruction of freedom, to turn its thouglits from Free Trade, 
Passive Resistance, and all our latest distractions, to the 
extraordinary spectacle presented by the Commission. The 
nation, we have no doubt, is sick to death of the subject. 
But our blunders happened just because the nation would ^ 
not face the facts, and the facts do not disappear just 
because delirious excitement has been followed by fatigue. 
The nation wished to see four years ago what the party of 
the Raid wished it to see. Is it ready now to see anything 
more than that party wishes it to see ? If we are to judge lo 
from the temper in which General Botha's letter was received 
the other day, the old habit of self-deception has not yet 
been abandoned. The public wanted to believe that repa- 
triation had been a great success, that Lord Milner had 
proved himself a great administrator, and that the outlook 15 
was bright and tranquil. It was a great mortification, when 
everyone wanted to forget South Africa and its wrongs and 
miseries in a peaceful optimism, to be told by a general who 
was no tame prisoner, but a fighter who had laid down his 
arms on certain explicit conditions, that South Africa was 20 
very far from contented and Lord Milner's administration 
very far from satisfactory. General Botha has not had to 
wait long for his vindication. Last week we reproduced 
some very remarkable figures from the Rand Daily Mail, 
showing that more than a million had been spent in 25 
administrative expenses of repatriation. The journalist who 
published those figures has since, we understand, been dis- 
missed from his editorship in consequence of representations 
from Lord Milner — the second time in the last few months 
that a newspaper editor has been dismissed in South Africa 30 
for criticising the Milner regime. To anyone who looked at 
those figures there is nothing at all startling in the picture 
sent home by Miss Hobhouse, in the letters published by the 
Daily News and the Manchester Guardian, of the misery and 
starvation in Boer States. Those letters should be read by 35 
everyone who realizes that we are responsible for this fam- 



The Proposed Liverpool University. 87 

ishing and emaciated population, for they record the results 
of the war and the results of a bureaucratic despotism. 
These facts are not facts the public wishes to know, or facts 
it is easy to learn, for the telegraphic agencies are no more 

5 trustworthy than they were during the war, and if a British 
journalist in Johannesburg publishes them he is very quickly 
disposed of. If Lord Milner wished us to know the facts 
he would not surround himself with the bureaucratic equip- 
ment of a Russian governor. One day the nation will be 

o awakened to the facts, not by letters, not by articles, not by 
officials like Sir VV^illiam Butler, who tell the disagreeable 
truth, but by a resounding revolution. 



VIII. 
The Proposed Liverpool University. 

Liverpool Mercury, July i, 1901. 

The action taken by the Court of Victoria University on 
Saturday is not a little remarkable. It had been understood 

15 that neither from Owens College nor from Leeds would there 
be any opposition to the desire of Liverpool for a University 
of its own. This expectation was disappointed, and the 
proceedings were, though unconsciously, so arranged as to 
furnish an object lesson of the need of the separate University 

20 which the people of this city demand. The wishes and 
ideals of Liverpool were simply put aside and ignored. 
Distinguished persons who know nothing of our peculiar 
circumstances and local requirements advanced their opinions 
of what was best for us in the matter of the higher education ; 

25 and their views, which were quite in consonance with those 
which have so long and so disastrously prevailed in this 
country, carried the day. It is probable that such an 
occurrence is not an isolated incident, but a typical example 



88 Editorials. 

of the treatment with which Liverpool has to be content in 
the councils of the Victoria Federation 5 and there could 
scarcely be a more striking proof of the strength of the case 
for freedom to work out our own intellectual salvation. The 
discussion certainly produced no better argument on the 5 
other side. The reasons which were urged against the Liver- 
pool proposal were for the most part old objections that have 
been already heard and refuted. Mr. Bryce, from whom a 
letter was read, pointed out that, if Liverpool obtained a 
University, Manchester and Leeds would claim the same 10 
dignity, and asked whether this multiplication of degree- 
giving bodies would not tend " to injure the value of all the 
degrees of the newer universities and to reduce the level of 
the university examinations." The Marquis of Ripon sup- 
plemented this contention with his own belief that "single 15 
college universities spread all over the country would not be 
found to promote the true interests of higher education." It 
is surprising that Mr. Bryce, who has so extensive a knowl- 
edge of the German and American Universities, should 
league himself after this fashion with those who, in their 20 
ignorance of what has been done for higher education in 
Germany and the United States, imagine that we are in dan- 
ger of creating too many Universities. Mr. Ramsay Muir, 
who has published an admirable pamphlet which he calls 
" The Plea for a Liverpool University," shows that, even if 25 
we reckon London and Victoria as true Universities, we have 
in England only one University for every five millions of the 
population. In Germany, which has twenty-one Universities 
to our six, the proportion is one University for every two and 
a half millions of inhabitants. America, which is still more 30 
lavishly endowed, provides a University for each half-million 
of people. It will be seen that we stand in no peril at 
present of unduly multiplying seats of learning ; and, as 
Principal Dale reminded the Court, the two difficulties of 
obtaining the necessary funds and of securing the consent of 35 
Parliament will always check the feverish creation of Uni- 



The Proposed Liverpool University 89 

versities which Mr. Bryce and others seemed to apprehend. 
The supposed risk of the deterioration of degrees can also be 
disposed of by the experience of Germany and America. In 
both countries the value of the influence of the Universities 

5 upon their intellectual and commercial life stands higher at 
the present day than it does in England, and this result of 
their teaching is of far greater importance than the worth of 
their parchments as recommendations for employment. 

Mr. Acland based his opposition to the request of Liver- 

10 pool upon the grounds that Victoria University has conferred 
a great benefit upon the north of England, and that its dis- 
solution would cause grief and disappointment to the people 
of the three counties concerned, and more especially to 
those who have won the degrees of the University. This 

15 would be a powerful argument if it were possible to show 
that the good done could be in any measure attributed to the 
University as distinguished from the three constituent colleges. 
But such a contention cannot be proved. Apart from the 
Colleges, the University consists simply of Earl Spencer and 

20 a clerk or two. The average citizen of Liverpool, Man- 
chester, or Leeds has only a vague idea of the meaning of 
Victoria University, and associates his notions of higher 
education with the University College of his own town. As 
for the sorrowing graduates of a deceased university, of whom 

25 Mr. Acland and Earl Spencer drew a pathetic picture, we 
suspect that they will be very glad to exchange their degrees, 
as they will doubtless be allowed to do, for those of Liverpool 
or Manchester. On this head Mr. Ramsay Muir's remarks 
seem to be conclusive. " As a matter of fact, " he writes, 

30 " the market value of the Victoria degree is lower than its 
standard deserves. Why ? Simply because Victoria means 
nothing to the average man. He has never heard of it, and 
he is suspicious of it. The training it represents may be 
good, bad, or indifferent ; he cannot tell. " But, wMe Vic- 

35 toria is a mere abstraction with no definite local associations, 
" everybody in the wide world is aware that Liverpool is a 



go 



Editorials. 



great city, and is likely to assume that its University will be 
worthy of it. " If a world-university is wanted, as Professor 
Rucker argued, the University of Liverpool is far more likely 
to gain that distinction than Victoria. Mr. Acland's fear that 
the establishment of local universities will have an injurious 5 
effect on secondary education appears to be equally without 
foundation. If University College is to exercise any control 
over secondary schools the probability is strong that it will 
receive more deference as an independent University than as 
a member of a federation, which cannot be sure of having 10 
its own way. The advantages which are traced to the fede- 
rated University are as imaginary as the evils which are to 
follow its dissolution. Earl Spencer thinks that in some 
mysterious way the Federation has been the means of pro- 
moting friendly rivalry among the colleges. But competition 1 5 
is hardly practicable when the institutions concerned are 
compelled to follow much the same curriculum and to pursue 
the same methods. A profitable rivalry cannot exist until the 
three colleges are free to go their own way. The Court was, 
however, sufficiently impressed by these and similar ccn- 20 
siderations to decide upon an inquiry into the demand for 
separation which Liverpool has set up. There can be no 
objection to a full and careful investigation in a matter of so 
much moment, but we question whether it was wise to 
entrust the task to such a committee as was nominated, 25 
Even now the German ideal of a University to which Liver- 
pool seeks to attain is scarcely intelligible to the average 
Englishman, who cannot be disabused of the notion that the 
essentials of University excellence are a strong board of 
examiners and stiff examinations. •'c 



f 



Concerning the Race Problem. 91 



IX. 
Concerning the Race Problem. 

Boston Herald, Sept. 14, 1903. 

In Other columns this morning we print a third communi- 
cation from Mr. Norman Walker of New Orleans, and one 
by the Rev. Dr. Brawley, pastor of the First Baptist Church 
in Fernandina, Fla., both relating to the race problem in the 
5 South. There could hardly be a more notable contrast of 
motive and spirit than these two communications present. 
One is a vehement — it would scarcely be unjust to say a 
malignant — assertion that the negro race is irredeemably 
degraded and base, — so that it is a crime to regard its mem- 

10 bers as human beings having rights to be recognized and 
protected, intelligence to be fostered and developed, immor- 
tal souls to be redeemed and saved. The other is the 
pleading of a Christian pastor for means to aid his effort to 
be of use to negro boys aspiring to gain the knowledge and 

15 character that will make them good citizens of the land of 
the free and the republic founded on principles of righteous- 
ness and equality. 

We might leave these two communications with our read- 
ers, allowing them to form their own conclusions as to which 

20 more truly typifies the charity and justice that is taught in 
the New Testament, and the ideal of government that is set 
forth in the Declaration of Independence. We might leave 
them to determine for themselves which purpose deserves to 
be approved and aided, that which insists on remitting the 

25 colored race in the United States to hopeless barbarism and 
oppression, or that which would, lift the race out of the bond- 
age of its ignorance and vices and raise it to the stature of 
noble manhood. 

We have no purpose to reply in detail to the argument of 

30 Mr. Walker ; but two or three of his gratuitous imputations 



92 Editorials. 

demand attention. There is no " Cambridge plan " to put 
the negro above the white man ; but in Cambridge, as in 
Massachusetts generally, there is a willingness to recognize 
ability and virtue, whatever the color of the skin of the man 
or woman who exhibits these qualities. Mr. Walker has a 5 
habit of referring to men who have no prejudices that lead 
them to do injustice to colored people, men who do not hate 
the negro because he is a negro, and who do not fear that 
they will be unable to compete with him if he has a fair 
chance in the world, as " negro-lovers." 10 

The white citizens of Massachusetts do not love a black 
man because he is black any more than they hate him 
because he is black. He has to deserve respect by his 
character and good behavior before he secures it ; and, in 
fact, it is rather harder here for a colored man than for 15 
a white man, their mental and moral characters being sub- 
stantially equal, to obtain public confidence. We are not 
entirely free from the race prejudice that is so strong in the 
South. Therefore, when a colored person holds an office, 
especially one that is not political in its character, it may be 20 
taken for granted that the person has superior qualifications 
to perform the duties of the place. 

Mr. Walker's insinuation that Harvard University dis- 
criminates in favor of colored students in awarding its honors 
and prizes is an ungenerous libel. He may be sure that 25 
any honor that has ever been given to a Harvard student 
has been fairly won by merit. Every Harvard man knows 
it, and will resent the imputation of unfairness on the part of 
the faculty or the trustees. Some of these honors that have 
been referred to, that of class orator, for example, were not 30 
conferred by the faculty, but were conferred by vote of the 
students themselves. What is here said of Harvard is true 
of Yale also, and of every northern college where colored 
men have been received as students. There has been no 
partiality. The men in control of these institutions are 35 
incapable of the meanness of such conduct. But we recog- 



Concerning the Race Problem. 93 

nize that persons who base their logic on the premise that 
the negro is incapable of education, and that the attempt to 
educate him always makes him a vagabond or a criminal, 
must account for the fact that one of the race obtains honors 
5 in an institution like Harvard University on some other 
ground than the negro's merit, even if they are compelled to 
impute lack of integrity to a man like President Eliot. 

A considerable part of Mr. Walker's long letter is devoted 
to showing that the pagan negroes in their African home are 

10 not a virtuous people. We require no citations of authori- 
ties to convince us of this ; we grant it. We grant, also, 
that during two hundred and fifty years of slavery in the 
United States without the motives that freedom, property, 
education, responsibility, liberty to enter upon and maintain 

15 in integrity and security sacred family relations naturally 
develop, they did not greatly improve. Further, we are not 
ignorant that in some sections conditions are no better than 
Mr. Patterson has set forth. The conditions are bad, and 
they are properly a serious phase of the race problem. All 

20 this is admitted, must be admitted by every one who dis- 
cusses the problem. But what is the remedy ? How is the 
evil to be cured ? Must the eight millions of the colored 
race in the Southern States be re-enslaved in order to pro- 
tect the white race ? This is the logical conclusion of the 

25 argument which men like Tillman, Money, Vardaman and 
Walker make. We commend to Mr. Walker the dictum of 
President Alderman of Tulane University in his own city : 
" Ignorance is not a cure for anything." Mr. Walker cites 
Mr. Patterson as to the fact of immorality ; but he does not 

30 cite him on the point of the remedy. We can supply what 
he has omitted : 

Apparently the only way to prevent all danger of negro domination 

in the South is to educate, educate, educate. I am quite well aware 

of the fact that this statement will be scoffed at by Southern men quite 

35 generally. They take the position that the negro is so near a savage he 

cannot be bettered, and they honestly believe the slightest tinge of edu- 



94 Editorials. 

cation not only destroys the usefiilness of the negro as a laborer, but 
injures him morally and makes him a menace to the community. 
Herein the South is manifestly not alive to the situation, it is deficient 
in its own civilization, it is half a century behind the great prosperous 
States of the North in its educational methods. ... It is a rare 5 
thing when we can find a Southern man or woman who is earnestly 
engaged in benefiting the colored people from a mental standpoint. 
They look after his house, try to teach him to be economical, and, in a 
queer kind of way, supervise his morals, but they will not educate him, 
and it seems impossible to teach Southern men and women that the 10 
education which will convert an ignorant and frequently criminal immi- 
grant from southeast Europe into a good citizen will, in the course of 
time, do the same thing for the negro. . . . Teach the negro how to 
use his hands intelligently, give him a chance to read a daily paper, 
let him have a letter now and then from his children, and the days of 1 5 
assaults, of violence and of lynching will disappear. 

Oh, but social equality will result, and the result of social 
equality will be miscegenation, and the degeneration of the 
proud Caucasian race ! For our part, we have a better 
opinion of the white people of the South. All the appeals to 20 
history which Mr. Walker makes are unreasonable, because 
the conditions here are so vastly different from the condi- 
tions in the West Indies or the South American States, 
which white adventurers and fortune seekers not distin- 
guished for morality invaded and subjugated. The mixture 25 
of races was due not to the equality of conditions, but to the 
inequality. War, avarice, brutality, licentiousness, united to 
take advantage of unequal conditions. The educated negroes 
in the North and in the South are the ones who have most 
self-respect and most conscience. The first step our mis- 30 
sionaries take in foreign fields is to educate those whom they 
would Christianize. 

But, without debating this subject further, it is sufficient 
to say that there will be no miscegenation in the South for 
which the white race will not have more than an equal share 35 
of responsibility and shame. It must be a feeble virtue that 
is afraid it cannot be true to the race instincts so much 
vaunted if negroes can read, own property, vote and hold 



I 



C. T. Congdon. 95 

office. We in the Northern cities which have long had a 
large negro population know that this alleged peril is a bug- 
bear of the imagination. It never has been a scandal of any 
account. The better reason negroes have to respect their 
5 own race, the less reason they have to desire social alliance 
with the other. 



C. T. CONGDON. 

Twelve Little Dirty Questions. 

N. V. Tribune, Oct. ii, 1862. 

[" The election of Mr. Buchanan seemed definitely to indicate not 
merely the perpetuity of Human Slavery in this Republic, but the 
acquiescence of the people of the Free States, or of a majority of them, 

10 in the extension of that unhappy institution. Its opponents, if not 
silenced, were decidedly defeated, and the Democratic Party, after a 
hundred previous audacities, continued to hold the Government with 
something of a feeling of invincibility. There remained, it is true, 
throughout the North and West, an Anti-Slavery sentiment which no 

15 misfortunes could overcome ; but a considerable measure of its activity 
was to be found among those who abstained from political methods ; 
while two classes of men, the one religious, and the other poHtical, still 
vehemently insisted that agitation of the Slavery Question was in itself 
an immorality deserving rebuke, and requiring vigorous suppression. 

20 When I began to write for the Tribune, there was hardly a politi- 
cal virtue, hardly a fundamental social truth, hardly a time-honored 
maxim of humanity, hardly an elementary principle of justice, which we 
did not have to fight for as if they had been discoveries. There was the 
ethnologist proving four millions of men to be monkeys. There was 

25 the 'statesman' demonstrating that the Constitution was framed 
'expressly to sustain Slavery. There was the clergyman showing Human 
Bondage to be as necessary as Original Sin. There was the simpering 
novelist depicting the pastoral pleasures of the plantation, and the patri- 
archical felicities of the Blacks. There was the lawyer pleading, in 

30 certain cases, the Habeas Corpus is good for nothing. And under all 
there were crowds of prejudiced and unreasoning men of every social 



96 Editorials. 

grade, from the highest to the lowest, who denounced every objector to 
this condition of affairs as a destructive and a radical, and who thought 
a flourishing trade with the South worth all the morality ever pro- 
pounded, from Plutarch to Dr. Paley. 

It would, doubtless, have been easier — I know it would often have 5 
been thought in better taste — to have taken a low and despairing view 
of public affairs, and sadly to have predicted the second coming of 
chaos. But, partly perhaps from a constitutional habit, I was led to con- 
sider serious subjects cheerfully ; although I hardly ever made a jest 
upon the subject of Slavery without a feeling of self -rebuke." Tribune 10 
Essays. Mr. Congdon's Prefatory Notice^ XI-XVII.'] 

We should very much Hke to know what in the opinion of 
the Rev. Dr. Hawks constitutes a large and clean question. 
In the Protestant Episcopal Convention last Monday, Dr. 
Hawks, arguing that the Church must treat its rebellious 15 
children with " lenity, courtesy and affection," used the fol- 
lowing language : *' We must not lug in all the little dirty 
questions of the day which will be buried with their agita- 
tion." One might retort upon Dr. Hawks that the questions 
which have disturbed the diocese for some years past, have 20 
been many of them small, and one of them, at least, exceed- 
ingly dirty — to say nothing of piquant scandals in the 
neighboring diocese of Pennsylvania. 

To the Protestant Episcopal Church is unquestionably due 
the reverence of some of us and the respect of others ; but 25 
Heaven knows there is nothing in its history, nothing in its 
present position which justifies this sublime scorn of political 
affairs which Dr. Hawks professes. In England, from the 
days of Henry VIII to the days of Victoria, the Church has 
been quite as much a political as a religious body — its 30 
Bishops have been courtiers, and sometimes generals — it has 
been a political institution in Scotland and in Ireland — the 
reigning monarch has been its legal head — among its clergy 
have figured the keenest and most unscrupulous politicians, 
while for the last twenty-five years, though Laud has been in 35 
his coffin for more than two centuries, this Church which 
never meddles with little questions, has been well-nigh sun- 



C. T. Congdon. 97 

dered upon points of architecture, of upholstery, of tailoring, 
of genuflexions, and of decorations ; while in America we 
have had petty reproductions of the same differences, with 
the disgusting spectacle of a Right Reverend Father in 
5 God, riding, all booted and spurred, at the head of his rebel 
regiments. After this, to find Dr. Hawks so delicately 
squeamish and so doubtful about the authority of the Church 
in public affairs, m_ust excite commiseration both for his 
stomach and his understanding. 

10 Shall the United States of America be deprived of an im- 
mense territory acquired at a cost of blood and treasure 
absolutely incomputable ? This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty 
Question, No. One. 

Shall the Constitution of the United ■ States be overthrown 

15 by the perjuries of its sworn defenders ? This is Dr. Hawks's 
Little Dirty Question, No. Two. 

Shall the Loyal States see the rolls of their citizens deci- 
mated, the flower of their youth slain in battle, the homes 
only a little while ago the happiest in the world made deso- 

20 late, the honest accumulations of industry scattered, the 
enterprises of benevolence arrested — and all without hope 
of indemnity or of security ? This is Dr. Hawks's Little 
Dirty Question, No. Three. 

Shall the wildest and wickedest perjury, the most Satanic 

25 defiance of the Majesty of Heaven, the clearest and least 
defensible of crimes flourish and bloom in the establishment 
of a great empire, and out of the dissolution of society se- 
cure the prosperous fortunes of the turbulent and the ambi- 
tious ? This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty Question, No. Four. 

30 Shall the great experiment of political self-government 
utterly fail, while we, crouching and crawling through the 
vicissitudes of anarchy, find refuge at last in blind obedience 
to the edicts of an autocrat? This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty 
Question, No. Five. 

33 Shall a system of labor be perpetuated which, without re- 
gard to its abstract equity, without consideration of its injus- 



98 Editorials. 

tice to the employed, has so demoralized the employer, that 
treason, robbery and murder seem to him to be Christian 
virtues? This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty Question, No. Six. 

Shall a system of labor be perpetuated which so utterly 
degrades the spiritual nature of the enslaved, as to expose 5 
it in its very yearning for sacred culture to a fanaticism 
analogous to idolatry? This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty 
Question, No. Seven. 

Shall a system of labor be perpetuated the very essence 
of which is a denial of the fundamental principle of Christian 10 
ethics — that the laborer is worthy of his hire? This is Dr. 
Hawks's Little Dirty Question, No. Eight. 

Shall these acts be considered by the Church mere pecca- 
dilloes, when perpetrated by its Southern slave -holding 
members, which in its Northern communicants it would at 15 
once visit with its censure and even its excommunication ? 
This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty Question, No. Nine. 

Shall a Church which every Sunday prays the Good Lord 
to deliver us '' from all sedition, privy conspiracy and re- 
bellion, " and " to give to all nations unity, peace and con- 20 
cord," still hold communion with a Church which is full of 
sedition, privy conspiracy and rebellion against the unity, 
peace and concord of the land ? This is Dr. Hawks's Little 
Dirty Question, No. Ten. 

Shall a Church which every Sunday prays for "the Presi- 25 
dent of the United States, and all others in authority" — 
not merely as fellow-men, but because they are " in author- 
ity" — shall the Church withhold its censure of those of its 
members, who in contempt of authority are waging a felonious 
war against law and order ? This is Dr. Hawks's Little Dirty 30 
Question, No. Eleven. 

Whether, finally, these communicants of the Church in the 
rebel States who have been so disregardful of its discipline, 
and so false to its teachings as to avowedly violate all laws 
Divine and human, are entitled to anything more than 35 
Christian pity, are at all entitled in their double tort to 



Charles T. Congdon. 99 

Christian Fellowship, is a Little Dirty Question well worth 
the consideration of every Christian Patriot ; and is Dr. 
Hawks's No. Twelve. 



XI. 

CHARLES T. CONGDON. 

Northern Independence. 

N. Y, Tribune, Sept. 12, 1862. 

We must conquer this Rebellion or it will conquer us. 
5 This is a fact of which we are reminded — and there is need 
that we should be — by the boasts of fugitive Secessionists in 
Canada, who, it is reported, " openly declare that the Union 
shall not be broken, but that if the North is beaten, it shall be 
subjected to the rule of Jefferson Davis, who will be next Presi- 

10 dent of the United States." " There is nothing sacred," said 
Napoleon, " after a conquest." The theory of this war is plain 
enough. The Northern people well understand that they are 
contending for the Constitution and the Laws ; but it may be 
questioned if more than a small minority of thinkers have per- 

1 5 mitted themselves to look — for they cannot do so without shud- 
dering — into that seething hell of anarchy and confusion and 
ceaseless apprehension which would be our fate in the event 
of a Confederate triumph. Large as this continent is, it 
may be safely assumed that it is not large enough for two 

20 distinct nationalities, with natural limits ill-defined, with mili- 
tary ambition upon one side of the line, and with a tantaliz- 
ing opulence upon the other, and with reminiscences of 
success taunting continually a stern, sad memory of defeat ; 
while a common language, instead of promoting peaceful al- 

25 liances, would become merely a more convenient medium of 
debate and defiance. If we never knew it before, we know 



Lota 



loo Editorials. 

now, that Slavery is aggressive. It is unnecessary to say that 
it is more so than any other marked and distinctive form of 
social life would be. It is only necessary to understand that, 
being of an absolutely peculiar character, and at war with 
the general moral conclusions of the age, Slavery, as it now 5 
exists in the American States, is in that position of desperate 
and dogged defiance, in which it will dare all things in self- 
defence. For reasons which we need not recapitulate, a 
component part of that defense must be its extension. It can 
no more exist within confined limits than a rat can live under 10 
an exhausted receiver. It is clear, therefore, that in the 
event of a military triumph of the system, the spirit of terri- 
torial aggrandizement, which has heretofore sought for new 
man-markets upon the frontier of the Southwest, would begin 
to exert itself in a Northern direction. Of the inability of 15 
the Slave Power to conquer such States as Illinois, Ohio, or 
Indiana, we might be tolerably certain, so long as a Northern 
Union should remain ; but the grave and alarming question is, 
how long, after the establishment of a Southern Confederacy, 
the Northern Union would continue to exist. Itself a frag- 20 
ment, into how many smaller fragments might it not, even 
within a quarter of a century, be precipitated ? Disunion is 
of bad example, and might prove contagious ; while the 
Slave States, united in a bad brotherhood, and by the ties of 
a common iniquity, might not find it difficult to cope with 25 
and to subjugate individual States, themselves exposed to 
the assaults of each other, and weakened by intestine dis- 
order. 

That it is no part of Slaveholding chivalry to spare a 
State, either because it is weak or inoffensive, let the fate of 30 
Mexico attest 1 But inoffensive the Northern States, even 
with the best intentions, could not possibly be. The recog- 
nition of the Confederacy, however absolute and complete, 
would not for a day silence the Anti-Slavery discussions of 
the North. It is certain that they will never cease until 35 
Slavery is abolished. No laws, however rigid, no considera- 



Charles T. Congdon. loi 

tions of international comity, would be sufficient to restrain 
the voices of men who as much believe that Slavery is hor- 
rible in God's sight as they believe that there is a God at 
all. This of itself would be sufficient to keep up a per- 
5 petual irritation at the South, and to afford a continual pre- 
text for an aggressive war. But the question of Fugitive 
Slaves, and of their rendition, would be a crowning difficulty, 
and one which, it seems to us, would be absolutely incapable 
of a peaceful solution. If we know anything of the temper 

lo of the Northern people, we can hardly believe that they will 
be ready to do that of their free will which they have been 
so unwilling to do upon compulsion. Treaties might be 
made, but treaties would be perpetually broken. Laws, 
founded upon such compacts, might be passed, but who 

15 would obey and who would enforce them? Meanwhile, the 
Government of the North would be constantly involved in 
difficulties with its own recalcitrant citizens ; and, the ques- 
tion of Slavery still coloring our politics, the people would 
be pretty sure to keep out of office " Northern men with 

20 Southern principles." War must inevitably follow. Peace, 
by infinite nursing and coddling, would be only the excep- 
tion, and War — beggaring, blasting, and weary War — would 
be the rule. Into the probable history of this people, so 
agitated and assaulted, it would not be pleasant too closely to 

25 inquire. If the Slave States, stimulated only by imaginary 
injuries, have shown themselves ready to shoot from a con- 
dition of ill-temper into that of sanguinary hostilities, what 
will be the popular feeling of the North when it is found that 
all our treasure has been expended only with the prodigality 

30 of the fool ? 

If the question, then, of the Union was an open one be- 
fore, it is so no longer. We cannot afford to concede — we 
cannot afford to be conquered. There is a deadly duel be- 
tween Freedom and Slavery, and one or the other must fall. 

35 The issue is but a matter of time. Freedom in the end 
must conquer. But over what dreary years of suffering and 



I02 Editorials. 

struggle, of paralyzed industry and social commotion, of 
private agony and of public bankruptcy, must that struggle, 
if we now temporize, extend ! If there be in this great me- 
tropolis any man who, in his devotion to the pursuit of gold, 
thinks that we should give up all, and retire from this con- 5 
test, we bid him look well to his money-bags, when the 
arrogant and hot-headed Confederacy shall have triumphed 
and commenced its political career. If there be here any 
man who wearies of the noise and confusion of this conflict, 
we bid him beware of lending his influence to the adoption of 10 
any measure which may merely postpone the final adjust- 
ment of this quarrel, and leave us, meanwhile, certainly for 
more than one generation, the sport of political chances. If 
there be any philanthropist who shrinks, as well he may, 
from the butchery of battle, we warn him that the longest 15 
war, however bloody, is better for humanity than the smooth- 
est of hollow truces. Do not let us be deceived 1 There is 
no safety for this republic but in its integrity ; there is no 
peace for it but in its indivisibility ; there is no economy in 
ending one war only that we may begin another ; there is 20 
no happiness for us, there is none for our children, save in 
the complete victory of our Government. Five years of war 
would be better — yes, fifty years of war would be better 
than a century of imaginary peace and continual collisions. 
The time to acknowledge the Confederacy, if at all, was 25 
when Anderson pulled down the flag of Fort Sumter. That 
time has gone by forever I 



W. M. Payne. 103 



XII. 

W. M. PAYNE.i 

John Addington Symonds. 

The Dial, Chicago. 

The death of Mr. Symonds, at Rome, has removed from 
the field of English letters one of its most graceful and 
accomplished representatives. He had only reached the age 
of fifty-two (Shakespeare's age), but his death was not wholly 
5 unexpected. Many years ago he was forced to leave Eng- 
land by pulmonary disease that threatened his life, and to 
take up a practically permanent residence at Davos, in the 
Engadine. His life in this mountain home has been de- 
scribed by himself in a number of charming magazine 

10 articles, and by his daughter in a recently published volume. 
He occasionally ventured upon short excursions from his 
seat of exile — mostly into Italy for the collection of the 
material required by his literary work — and itw^as upon one 
of these excursions that he gave up the long struggle with ill 

15 health. 

His enforced residence in what was, for the literary 
worker, an almost complete solitude, has left its mark upon 
the work of his later years. Absence fi-om all libraries but 
his own has given to much of that work an inadequate char- 

20 acter, and left it lacking in the accuracy demanded by mod- 
ern scholarship. For these defects, considering their excuse, 
he has been subjected to unfairly harsh criticism. It is really 
remarkable, under the conditions, that his work should have 
as high a scientific character as that with which it must be 

25 credited, and it surely offers -a case in which the verdict of 
justice should be tempered by that of mercy. On the other 

^ Reprinted, by permission of W. M. Payne from Little Leaders, 
A. C. McClurg & Co. 



I04 Editorials. 

hand, the author's long freedom from the distractions of 
EngUsh life enabled him to become a prolific worker, and 
the literary activity of his later years has been very marked. 
He has produced new volumes in rapid succession, and most 
of them have been volumes of unquestionable importance. 5 
Much of his later work has been shaped by the necessities 
of his isolated situation, and has taken forms that did not 
require the resources of great collections of material. His 
translations from the Italian, and his subtle analyses of the 
principles of aesthetic criticism, are illustrations of this gen- 10 
eral statement, although we must admit that the most impor- 
tant of his later works, the life of Michelangelo, had to be, 
and was, based upon an exhaustive study of the contempo- 
rary documents. As these were to be found in Italy, a 
country within his reach, he was enabled, even in his years 15 
of exile, to produce one work of capital scientific value. 

Whatever form Mr. Symonds might give to his work, it 
was, like that of the great Frenchman whose loss we have so 
lately niourned, essentially critical in spirit, and its author 
will be remembered among the critics, rather than among 20 
the poets, the travellers, or the narrative historians. But his 
critical method Avas radically unlike that of his French con- 
temporary, being as subjective as that of Taine was objec- 
tive. He constantly sought to place himself within the mind 
of the writer or historical character with whom he was 25 
engaged, to see the world with his eyes, and to treat the 
environment as secondary in time if not in significance. 
Taine, as we well know, deduced the man and his work from 
the surrounding conditions ; Symonds took the man and his 
work as the data of the problem, seeking to understand 30 
rather than to account for them. We are not here con- 
cerned to compare the two methods of work. Both of them 
are capable of excellent results, and either of them, if carried 
far enough, involves the other. It is sufficient to say that 
a writer committed to the one does not, as a rule, realize 35 
all the possibilities of the other, and falls short of that syn- 



W. M. Payne. 105 

thesis of the two that will produce the criticism of the future. 
When Schelling spoke of architecture as frozen music, he 
sounded the keynote of what we may call the romantic manner 
in criticism. 'In romantic writing,' as we are told by 
5 Professor Sydney Colvin, ' all objects are exhibited as it 
were through a colored and iridescent atmosphere. Round 
about every central idea the romantic writer summons up a 
cloud of accessory and subordinate ideas for the sake of 
enhancing its effect, if at the risk of confusing its outlines.' 

10 To Mr. Symonds as a critic this definition of romanticism 
closely applies. A student of all the arts, a lover of natural 
no less than of man-created beauty, he was constantly bring- 
ing one set of impressions to the aid of another. He de- 
lighted in illustrating poetry by the phrases of landscape, 

15 and painting by the language of music. Those who will 
have only the clean-cut critical phraseology of Sainte-Beuve 
and Arnold resent the exuberance of Symonds, and do 
imperfect justice to its beauty as well as to its power of 
making a lasting impression. If they admit the latter quality, 

20 they will say that the impression is false, that the half-lights 
of romanticism are misleading, and that each artistic or 
other embodiment of beauty has its distinct province, forget- 
ting that all forms of beauty appeal to the same emotional 
consciousness, and that the law of association is no less 

25 valid in the emotional than in the intellectual sphere. 

Professor Tyrrell, in a satirical sketch of the modern meth- 
ods of classical study, says : ' To study the works, for instance, 
of the Greek dramatists is no longer a road to success as a 
scholar, or as a student. No : you must be ready to liken 

30 ^schylus to an Alpine crevasse, Sophocles to a fair avenue 
of elms, and Euripides to an amber weeping Phaethontid, or 
a town pump in need of repairing.' This is clearly a refer- 
ence to such books as Symond's ' Studies of the Greek 
Poets ' and yet that book has done more to rouse an enthusi- 

35 asm for Greek poetry, and foster a desire for its acquaint- 
ance, than all the unromantic tomes of the grammarians. 



io6 Editorials. 

One subject Mr. Symonds made his own, and by his work 
done upon that subject he will be chiefly remembered. The 
Italian Renaissance has had historians of more minutely 
accurate scholarship, and its separate phases have perhaps 
found occasional treatment subtler and more profound than 5 
it was in his power to give them. But the period as a 
whole, its political and domestic life, its literature and art, 
received at his hands a treatment that lacks neither grasp 
nor sympathy, that is distinctly the best and most attractive 
in English literature. This treatment is chiefly embodied in 10 
the series of seven volumes, beginning with ' The Age of the 
Despots,' and ending with the 'Catholic Reaction' but is 
also to be sought in the masterly life of Michelangelo, in 
' An Introduction to the Study of Dante,' in the verse and 
prose translations from Italian literature, and in the host of 15 
studies and sketches from time to time contributed to the 
periodicals. Upon the fascinating period with which all 
this work deals the best part of the author's thought was 
centred, and modern criticism offers few instances of so 
close an adaptation of a writer to his theme. Both by 20 
temperament and training he was the man for the work, and 
the way in which, the main body of the work accomplished, 
he has lingered upon the outskirts of his chosen field of 
study reveals the extent to which the subject took possession 
of his mind and sympathies. The author's studies of other 25 
literatures than the Italian are chiefly represented by his 
work on the Greek poets, his essay on Lucretius, his 
' Sidney ' and ' Shelley ' in the ' English Men of Letters 
Series,' his ' Jonson ' in the series of 'English Worthies,' 
and his thick volume entitled 'Shakespeare's Predecessors 30 
in the English Drama,' intended to be the first volume of a 
complete history of our great dramatic period. His volumes 
of travel in Italy and Greece are genuine literature, exempli- 
fying the wealth of his learning, the justness of his percep- 
tions, and the beauty of his style. His original verse, 35 
considerable in amount, falls short of being great poetry, 



E. L. Godkin. 107 

but may be read with keen pleasure, and appeals strongly to 
the reflective mind. His essays on the principles of aesthetics 
are burdened with verbiage and not always lucid in enunci- 
ation, but they are weighty enough amply to repay their 
5 readers. When we consider his work as a whole we are 
impressed with its range, its sanity, and its devotion to the 
Goethean ideal of the good, true, and beautiful. His death 
has made a conspicuous vacancy in the rapidly thinning 
ranks of our older writers, and upon no other shoulders does 
10 his particular mantle seem yet to have fallen. 



XIII. 
E. L. GODKIN. 

Mr. Horace Greeley.^ 

New Yo7-k Evening Post. 

[ " The ' Evening Post,' under his editorship, was the home of that ab- 
solute intellectual freedom, intellectual courage, and intellectual honesty 
without which there can be no great newspaper. Every subject was dis- 
cussed in the editorial council with a freedom of opinion that was simply 

15 unlimited. When the paper spoke, it uttered the combined view of the 
entire staff as it had been arrived at in the discussion. Sometimes, 
probably in a great majority of instances, the original view of Mr. Godkin 
was the one expressed, but often he had abandoned that for a different 
one brought forward by someone else. He had no pride of opinion, 

20 but, on the contrary, hailed with positive delight one that he recognized 
as superior to his own. He w'ould fight for his own for all it was worth 
until convinced, and would fight at times with a good deal of human 
heat ; but when the tussle was ended, even in his own defeat, there was 
not a trace of bitterness or injured vanity. Nothing was more intoler- 

25 able to him than the modern conception of the intellectual side of a 
newspaper, — the conception that has come in with the advent of com- 
mercial journalism, — which looks upon the editorial page as the mere 

^ Reprinted by permission from Reflections and Comments. Copy- 
right, 1895, by Charies Scribner's Sons. 



io8 Editorials. 

tender of the business side, its writers as so many hands in a factory, 
rather than as constituting the soul of the paper." — Fe?-sonal Recollec- 
tions of E. L. Godkin. J. B. Bishop. The Century, Sept., 1902.] 

There has been something almost tragic about the close 
of Mr. Greeley's career. After a life of, on the whole, re- 5 
markable success and prosperity, he fell finally under the 
weight of accumulated misfortunes. Nobody who heard him 
declare that " he accepted the Cincinnati Convention and its 
consequences," but must be struck by the illustration of what is 
called "the irony of fate," which nearly everything that oc- 10 
curred afterwards affords. His nomination, from whatever 
point of view we look at it, was undoubtedly a high honor. The 
manner in which it was received down to the Baltimore Con- 
vention was very flattering. Whether it was a proper thing to 
"beat Grant" or not, that so large and so shrewd a body of his 15 
countrymen should have thought Mr. Greeley the man to do 
it was a great compliment. It found him, too, in posses- 
sion of all the influence which the successful pursuit of his 
own calling could give a man — the most powerful editor in 
the Union, surrounded by friends and admirers, feared or 20 
courted by nearly everybody in public life, and in the full 
enjoyment of widespread popular confidence in his integrity. 
In six short months he was well-nigh undone. He had en- 
dured a humiliating defeat, which seemed to him to indicate 
the loss of what was his dearest possession, the affection of 25 
the American people ; he had lost the weight in public affairs 
which he had built up by thirty years of labor ; he saw his 
property and, as he thought, that of his friends diminished 
by the attempt to give him a prize which he had in his own 
estimation fairly earned, and, though last not least, he found 30 
his home invaded by death, and one of the strongest of the ties 
which bind a man to this earth broken. It would not be 
wonderful if, under these circumstances, the coldest and 
toughest of men should lie down and die. But Mr. Greeley 
was neither cold nor tough. He was keenly sensitive both 33 
to praise and blame. The applause of even paltry men 



E. L. Godkin. 109 

gladdened him, and their censure stung him. Moreover, he 
had that intense longing for reputation as a man of action by 
which men of the closet are so often torn. In spite of all 
that his writing brought him in reputation, he writhed under 
5 the popular belief that he could do nothing but write, and he 
spent the flower of his years trying to convince the public 
that it was mistaken about him. It was to this we owed 
whatever was ostentatious in his devotion to farming, and in 
his interest in the manufacturing industry of the country. It 

10 was to this, too, that he owed his keen and lifelong desire 
for office, and, in part at least, his activity in getting offices 
for other people. 

Office-seekers have become in the United States so ridicu- 
lous and so contemptible a class, that a man can hardly seek 

15 a place in the public service without incurring a certain 
amount of odium ; and perhaps nothing did more damage to 
Mr. Greeley's reputation than his anxiety to be put in places 
of trust or dignity. And yet it is doubtful if many men seek 
office with more respectable motives than his. For pecu- 

20 niary emolument he cared nothing ; but he did pine all his 
life long for some conspicuous recognition of his capacity for 
the conduct of affairs, and he never got it. The men who have 
nominations to bestow never had confidence enough in his 
judgment or ability to offer him anything which he would 

25 have thought worthy of his expectations when there was the 
least chance of their choice receiving a popular ratification. 
They disliked him, as politicians are apt to dislike an editor 
in the political arena, as a man who, in having a newspaper 
at his back, is sure not to play their game fairly. The con- 

30 sequence was that he was constantly irritated by finding how 
purely professional his influence was, or, in other words, 
what a mortifying disproportion existed between his editorial 
and his personal power. The first revelation the public had 
of the bitterness of his disappointment on this score was 

35 caused by the publication of the famous Seward letter, and 
the surprise it caused was perhaps the highest compliment 



1 1 o Editorials. 

Mr. Greeley ever received. It showed with what success he 
had prevented his private griefs from affecting his pubHc 
action, and people are always ready to forgive ambition as 
an '' infirmity of noble minds," even when they do not feel 
disposed to reward it. 5 

Unfortunately for Mr. Greeley, however, he never could 
persuade himself that the public was of the same mind as 
the politicians regarding his personal capacity. He per- 
sisted to the last in believing himself the victim of their 
envy, hatred, and malice, and looking with unabated hope 10 
to some opportunity of obtaining a verdict on his merits as a 
man of action, in which his widespread popularity and his 
long and laborious teachings would fairly tell. The result 
of the Cincinnati Convention, which his friends and emis- 
saries from this city went out to prepare, but which perhaps 15 
neither he nor they in the beginning ventured to hope for, 
seemed to promise him at last the crown and consummation 
of a life's longings, and he received it with almost childlike 
joy. The election was, therefore, a crushing blow. It was 
not, perhaps, the failure to get the presidency that was 20 
hardest to bear — for this might have been accompanied by 
such a declaration of his fitness for the presidency as would 
have sweetened the remainder of his years — it was the con- 
temptuous greatness of his opponent's majority which was 
killing. It dissipated the illusion of half a lifetime on the 25 
one point on which illusions are dearest — a man's exact 
place in the estimation of his countrymen. Very few — even 
of those whose fame rests on the most solid foundation of 
achievement — ever ask to have this ascertained by a positive 
test without dread or misgiving, or face the test without a 30 
strain which the nerves of old men are often ill fitted to bear. 
That Mr. Greeley's nerves were unequal to the shock of 
failure we now know. But it needed no intimate acquaintance 
with him to see that the card in which he announced, two 
days after the election, that he would thereafter be a simple 35 
editor, would seek office no more, and would confine himself 



E. L. Godkin. 1 1 1 

to the production of a candid and judicial-minded paper, 
must have been written in bitterness of spirit for which this 
world had no balm. 

In addition to the deceptions caused by his editorial influ- 
5 ence, Mr. Greeley had others to contend with, more subtle, 
but not less potent. The position of the editor of a leading 
daily paper is one which, in our time, is hardly possible for 
the calmest and most candid man to fill without having his 
judgment of himself perverted by flattery. Our age is in- 

lo tensely commercial ; it is not the dry-goods man or the grain 
merchant only who has goods for sale, but the poet, the 
orator, the scholar, the philosopher, and the politician. We 
are all, in a measure, seeking a market for our wares. What 
we desire, therefore, above all things, is a good advertising 

15 medium, or, in other words, a good means of making known 
to all the world where our store is and what we have to sell. 
This means the editor of a daily paper can furnish to any- 
body he pleases. He is consequently the object of unceasing 
adulation from a crowd of those who shrink from fighting 

20 the slow and doubtful battle of life in the open field, and 
crave the kindly shelter of editorial plaudits, "puffs," and 
"mentions." He finds this adulation offered freely, and by 
all classes and conditions, without the least reference to his 
character or talents or antecedents. What wonder if it 

25 turns the heads of unworthy men, and begets in them some 
of the vices of despots — their unscrupulousness, their 
cruelty, and their impudence. What wonder, too, if it 
should have thrown off his balance a man like Mr. Greeley, 
whose head was not strong, whose education was imperfect, 

30 and whose self-confidence had been fortified by a brave and 
successful struggle v;ith adversity. 

Of his many private virtues, of his kind-heartedness, his 
generosity, his sympathy with all forms of suffering and 
anxiety, we do not need to speak. His career, too, has 

35 little in it to point any moral that is not already trite and 
familiar. The only lesson we can gather from it with any 



1 1 2 Editorials. 

clearness is the uncertainty of this world, and all that it con- 
tains, and the folly of seeking the presidency. Nobody can 
hope to follow in his footsteps. He began life as a kind of 
editor of which he was one of the last specimens, and which 
will shortly be totally extinct — the editor who fought as the 5 
man-at-arms of the party. This kind of work Mr. Greeley 
did with extraordinary earnestness and vehemence and suc- 
cess — so much success that a modern newspaper finally 
grew up around him, in spite of him, almost to his surprise, 
and often to his embarrassment. The changed condition of 10 
journalism, the substitution of the critical for the party views 
of things, he never wholly accepted, and his frequent personal 
appearance in his columns, under the signature of " H. G.," 
hurling defiance at his enemies or exposing their baseness, 
showed how stifling he found the changed atmosphere. He 15 
was fast falling behind his age when he died. New men, 
and new issues, and new processes, which he either did not 
understand at all or only understood imperfectly, crowded 
upon him. If the dazzling prize of the presidency had not 
been held before his eyes, we should probably have witnessed 20 
his gradual but certain retirement into well-won repose. 
Those who opposed him most earnestly must now regret 
sincerely that in his last hours he should have known the 
bitterness of believing, what was really not true, that the 
labors of his life, which were largely devoted to good causes, 25 
had not met the appreciation they merited at the hands of 
his co.untrymen. It is for his own sake, as well as that of 
the public, greatly to be regretted that he should not have 
lived until the smoke of the late conflict had cleared away. 



E. L. Godkin. 113 



XIV. 
E. L. GODKIN. 

The Odium Philologicum.^ 

New York Evening Post. 

Our readers and those of The Galaxy are familiar with the 
controversy between Dr. Fitzedward Hall and Mr. Grant 
White (November, 1873). When one comes to inquire what 
it was all about, and why Mr. White was led to consider Dr. 
5 Hall a -'yahoo of literature," and "a man born without a 
sense of decency, " one finds himself engaged in an investi- 
gation of great difficulty, but of considerable interest. The 
controversy between these two gentlemen by no means 
brings up the problem for the first time. That verbal criti- 

10 cism, such as Mr. White has been producing for some time 
back, is sure to end, sooner or later, in one or more savage 
quarrels, is one of the most familiar facts of the literary life 
of our day. Indeed, so far as our observation has gone, the 
rule has no exceptions. Whenever we see a gentleman, no 

15 matter how great his accomplishments or sweet his temper, 
announcing that he is about to write articles or deliver lec- 
tures on " Words and their Uses, " or on the " English of 
Every-day Life, " or on " Familiar Faults of Conversation, " 
or " Newspaper English, " or any cognate theme, we feel all 

20 but certain that we shall soon see him engaged in an en- 
counter with another laborer in the same field, in which all 
dignity will be laid aside, and in which, figuratively speaking, 
clothes, hair, and features will suffer terribly, and out of 
which, unless he is very lucky, he will issue with the gravest 

25 imputations resting on his character in every relation of 
life. 

^ Reprinted by permission from Reflections and Comments. Copy- 
right, 1895, by Chas. Scribner's Sons. 



114 Editorials. 

Now why is it that attempts to get one's fellowmen to talk 
correctly, to frame their sentences in accordance with good 
usage, and take their words from the best authors, have this 
tendency to arouse some of the worst passions of our nature, 
and predispose even eminent philologists — men of dainty 5 
language, and soft manners, and lofty aims — to assail each 
other in the rough vernacular of the fish-market and the 
forecastle ? A careless observer will be apt to say that it is 
an ordinary result of disputation ; that when men differ or 
argue on any subject they are apt to get angry and indulge 10 
in "personalities." But this is not true. Lawyers, for 
instance, live by controversy, and their controversies touch 
interests of the gravest and most delicate character — such 
as fortune and reputation ; and yet the spectacle of two 
lawyers abusing each other in cold blood, in print, is almost 15 
unknown. Currency and banking are, at certain seasons, 
subjects of absorbing interest, and, for the last seventy 
years, the discussions over them have been numerous and 
volumrnous almost beyond example, and yet we remember 
no case in which a bullionist called a paper-money man bad 20 
names, or in which a friend of free banking accused a 
restrictionist of defrauding the poor or defacing tombstones. 
Politics, too, home and foreign, is a fertile source of differ- 
ence of opinion ; and yet gross abuse, on paper, of each 
other, by political disputants, discussing abstract questions 25 
having no present relation to power or pay, are very rare 
indeed. 

It seems, at first blush, as if an examination of the well- 
known odium tkeologicum, or the traditional bitterness which 
has been apt to characterize controversies about points of 30 
doctrine, from the Middle Ages down to a period within our 
own memory, would throw some light on the matter. But a 
little consideration will show that there are special causes 
for the rancor of theologians for which word-criticism has 
no parallel. The odhim tkeologicum was the natural and 35 
inevitable result of the general belief that the holding of 



E. L. Godkin. 1 15 

certain opinions was necessary to salvation, and that the 
formation of opinions could be wholly regulated by the will. 
This belief, pushed to its extreme limits and embodied in 
legislation, led to the burning of heretics in nearly all 
5 Christian countries. When B's failure to adopt A's conclu- 
sions was by A regarded as a sign of depravity of nature 
which would lead to B's damnation, nothing was more nat- 
ural than that w^hen they came into collision in pamphlets or 
sermons they should have attributed to each other the worst 

10 motives. A man who was deliberately getting himself 
ready for perdition was not a person to whom anybody ow^ed 
courtesy or consideration, or whose arguments, being proba- 
bly supplied by Satan, deserved respectful examination. 
We accordingly find that as the list of " essential " opinions 

15 has become shortened, and as doubts as to men's respon- 
sibility for their opinions have made their way from the 
W'orld into the church, theological controversy has lost its 
acrimony and indeed has almost ceased. No theologian of 
high standing or character now permits himself to show 

20 bad temper in a doctrinal or hermeneutical discussion, and 
a large and increasing proportion of theologians acknowledge 
that the road to heaven is so hard for us all that the less 
quarrelling and jostling there is in it, the better for every- 
body. 

25 Nor does the odium scientificum^ of which we have now 
happily but occasional manifestations, furnish us with any 
suggestions. Controversy between scientific men begins to 
be bitter and frequent, as the field of investigation grows 
wider and the investigation itself grows deeper. But then 

30 this is easily accounted for. All scientific men of the first 
rank are engaged in original research — that is, in attempts 
to discover laws and phenomena previously unknown. The 
workers in all departments are very numerous, and are scat- 
tered over various countries, and as one discovery, however 

35 slight, is very apt to help in some degree in the making of 
another, scientific men are constantly exposed to having their 



1 1 6 Editorials. 

claims to originality contested, either as regards priority in 
point of time or as regards completeness. Consequently, 
they may be said to stand in delicate relations to each other, 
and are more than usually sensitive about the recognition of 
their achievements by their brethren — a state of things 5 
which, while it cultivates a very nice sense of honor, leads 
occasionally to encounters in which free-will seems for the 
moment to get the better of law. The differences of the 
scientific world, too, are complicated by the theological bear- 
ing of a good deal of scientific discovery and discussion, and 10 
many a scientific man finds himself either compelled to defend 
himself against theologians, or to aid theologians in bringing 
an erring brother to reason. 

The true source of the odium philologicum is, we think, to 
be found in the fact that a man's speech is apt to be, or to 15 
be considered, an indication of the manner in which he has 
been bred, and of the character of the company he keeps. 
Criticism of his mode of using words, or his pronunciation, 
or the manner in which he compounds his sentences, almost 
inevitably takes the character of an attack on his birth, 20 
parentage, education, and social position ; or, in other words, 
on everything which he feels most sensitive about or holds 
most dear. If you say that his pronunciation is bad, or that 
his language is slangy or ill-chosen, you insinuate that when 
he lived at home with his papa and mamma he was sur- 25 
rounded by bad models, or, in plain English, that his parents 
were vulgar or ignorant people ; when you say that he writes 
bad grammar, or is guilty of glaring solecisms, or displays 
want of etymological knowledge, you insinuate that his edu- 
cation was neglected, or that he has not associated with 30 
correct speakers. Usually, too, you do all this in the most 
provoking way by selecting passages from his writings on 
which he probably prided himself, and separating them 
totally from the thought of which he was full when he pro- 
duced them, and then examining them mechanically, as if 35 
they were algebraic signs, which he used without knowing 



E. L. Godkin. 117 

what they meant or where they would bring him out. No- 
body stands this process very long with equanimity, because 
nobody can be subjected to it without being presented to the 
public somewhat in the light of an ignorant, careless, and 

5 pretentious donkey. Nor will it do to cite your examples 
from deceased authors. You cannot do so without assailing 
some form of expression which an eager, listening enemy is 
himself in the habit of using, and is waiting for you to take 
up, and through which he hopes to bring you to shame. 

10 No man, moreover, can perform the process without tak- 
ing on airs which rouse his victim to madness, because he 
assumes a position not only of grammatical, but, as we have 
said, of social superiority. He says plainly enough, no 
matter how pohte or scientific he may try to seem, " I was 

15 better born and bred than you, and acquired these correct 
turns of expression, of which you know nothing, from culti- 
vated relatives ; " or, "I live in cultivated circles, and am 
consequently familiar with the best usage, which you, poor 
fellow! are not. I am therefore able to decide this matter 

20 without argument or citations, and your best course is to 
take my corrections in silence or with thankfulness." It is 
easy to understand how all interest in orthography, etymol- 
ogy, syntax, and prosody speedily disappears in a contro- 
versy of this sort, and how the disputants begin to burn with 

25 mutual dislike, and how each longs to inflict pain and anguish 
on his opponent, and make him, no matter by what means, 
an object of popular pity and contempt, and make his parts 
of speech odious and ridiculous. The influence of all good 
men ought to be directed either to repressing verbal criticism, 

30 or restricting indulgence in it to the family circle or to 
schools and colleges. 



1 1 8 Editorials. 

XV. 

W. M. PAYNE. 

The Critic and His Task.^ 

The Dial, Chicago. 

' We read far too many poor things ' said Goethe to 
Eckermann 'thus losing time and gaining nothing.' In 
similar vein and at greater length, Schopenhauer gave vent to 
this characteristic outburst : 

' The amount of time and paper — their own and other 5 
people's — wasted by the swarm of mediocre poets, and the 
injurious influence they exercise, are matters deserving of 
serious consideration. For the public is ever ready to seize 
upon novelty, and has a natural proneness for the perverse 
and the dull as most akin to itself. Therefore the works of lo 
the mediocre poets divert public attention, keeping it away 
from the true masterpieces and the education they offer ; 
acting in direct antagonism to the benign influence of genius, 
they ruin taste more and more, retarding the progress of the 
age. Such poets should therefore receive the scourge of 15 
criticism and satire without indulgence or sympathy, until led, 
for their own benefit, to apply their talents to reading what is 
good rather than to writing what is bad. For if the bungling 
of the incompetent so aroused the wrath of the gentle Apollo 
that he could flay Marsyas, I do not see upon what the 20 
mediocre poet can base his claim to tolerance.' 

In such comment as we have just quoted there is a vein of 
bitterness not altogether to the taste of our complacent and 
easy-going modern age, so zealous in bearing witness to its 
democratic faith that it grudges recognition of any aristocracy 25 
at all, even of one as imprescriptible as that of genius. Live 

^ Reprinted by permission of W. M. Payne from Little Leaders. 
A. C. McClurg& Co. 



W. M. Payne. 119 

and let live, give every man his due and a little more, credit 
the intention rather than the performance, are some of the 
formulas in which the modern spirit of comfortable optimism 
finds expression. When literary production is the subject of 
5 criticism there are many motives at work in the interest of 
leniency or excessive generosity. Leaving entirely out of the 
question the unabashed puffery, regulated by counting-room 
conditions, that parades as criticism in so many of our news- 
papers ; taking into serious account only the critical writing 

10 that is, as far as conscious purpose goes, honest in its intent; 
this work is still often weakened "by influences too insidious 
in their action to be distinctly felt, yet giving it a tendency 
which, in view of the larger interests of the reading public, is 
undoubtedly pernicious. The critic deficient merely in 

15 knowledge heeds too closely the warning example of the early 
critics of Shelley and Keats, of Wordsworth and Tennyson, 
and casts his anchors to windward, hoping thereby to save 
his reputation from the scorn in which theirs stand pilloried. 
The critic whose defects are of the heart rather than of the 

20 intellect, who is too amenable to social influences or of too 
kindly a disposition to give the work under examination the 
character he knows it to possess, softens the outlines of truth 
(often quite unconsciously) and produces a distinctly false 
impression. In either case the public is served to its detri- 

25 ment rather than to its profit. The critic's paramount duty 
is, of course, his duty to the public, and every personal or 
private influence whatsoever must be resisted by him from 
the moment that its presence is felt. 

All this is not easy, and yet it may be done by a writer who 

30 has both knowledge and honesty. If a book has little or no 
value, the fact must be clearly and firmly stated, no matter 
what the author under discussion may feel. This assignment 
to its place of a new book need not be done with the tradi- 
tional brutality of the Quarterly Reviewer, although even that 

35 would be better than the insipidity of the twaddle that so 
often passes for criticism, and that is obviously enough 



1 20 Editorials. 

intended to win the good opinion of the author as well as so to 
hoodwink the public that its good opinion shall not be for- 
feited. How few critics there are who, recognizing the 
worthlessness of books, are yet ready, in Milton's phrase, to 
' do sharpest justice on them as malefactors ' ? In fact, the 5 
sin of the Quarterly Reviewers was not so much brutality as 
ignorance. Their attitude was hopelessly provincial, and 
they sought to conceal their limitations by the vigor of their 
invective. After all, a new book is bound to show an ade- 
quate reason for its being ; if no such reason exists, the fact 10 
cannot be too soon discerned and stated. A new book is an 
attempt to divert the attention of readers from those already 
in their possession ; it is an impertinence unless it bears a 
sufficient warrant. Books of knowledge must be multiplied 
with the advance of science, and their warrant is found in 15 
new facts and in the more perfect formulation of old ones. 
What Mr. Ruskin calls ' books of the hour ' are warranted by 
the special interests of the hour. ' We ought to be entirely 
thankful for them, and entirely ashamed of ourselves if we 
make no good use of them.' With books of these classes the 20 
task of the critic is simple. He must seize upon their 
elements of novelty or of timeliness, and must determine 
whether or not they accomplish their purpose. 

With books that pretend to be additions to literature 
proper — with poems, plays, and novels — his task is different. 25 
He must be alert to detect new notes of song or of passion, but 
if only feeble echoes reward the search he must make the 
fact perfectly clear. Of the books of belles-lettres published 
during a given year, it is certainly safe to say that nine out of 
ten should never have seen the light, that in at least this 30 
fraction of the total number there is neither wit, nor invention, 
nor grace of style, nor harmony of numbers, in any redeeming 
measure. 

And the critic who persuades his readers that acquaintance 
with these empty books is more desirable than acquaintance 35 
with the recognized masterpieces — that it is desirable at all 



W. M. Payne. 121 

in view of the real literature waiting to be read — is careless 
of his responsibility and false to his trust. There is after all 
but one standard in literature, and that is the highest. The 
great writers not only offer us boundless dehght in them- 
5 selves, but they provide us with a touchstone for the testing 
of all spurious metal. 

In a certain sense, it is the critic's business to make his 
readers independent of criticism, just as the physician's aim 
must be to make his patient independent of medicine. And 

10 the reader who has formed his taste upon good models does 
not need the critic's services except for occasional guidance. 
But the readers who need those services for instruction, in 
these days of insignificant or worthless books profusely multi- 
plied, are still many; and the critic who sets up as absolute 

15 any merely relative standard of excellence, who describes the 
work of talent in terms only applicable to the work of genius, 
who praises the echo of noble literary work without clearly 
indicating its derivative character, who does not frequently 
renew his own strength by draughts from the fountain heads 

20 of literary inspiration — the work of this critic can be the 
source of no real helpfulness, and can only expect to share 
the speedy oblivion awaiting the books that it seems for a 
moment to magnify into component parts of permanent 
literature. 



THE EULOGY. 



No. I exemplifies the nomination speech ; No. II the chronological 
eulogy, that is, the address in which the person treated is traced from 
birth to death; and No. Ill the selective eulogy, in which carefully 
selected details in the life of the person treated are grouped about one 
or more central ideas. 



ROSCOE CONKLING. 

Nomination of U. S. Grant.^ 

Delivered at the Republican Presidential Convention at Chicago, 
June 5, 1880. 

[The nominees at the Convention were : U. S. Grant, J. G. Blaine, 
William Windom, John Sherman, G. F. Edmunds, and E. B. Wash- 
bume. Throughout the thirty-six ballots the Grant forces remained 
firm, his vote varying only between 303 and 312. After the thirty -fifth 
5 ballot, a combination of the followers of Sherman, Blaine, and Edmunds 
gave Garfield 399 votes on the thirty-sixth ballot. On the first ballot 
for a candidate for vice-president, Chester A. Arthur was chosen.] 

'' When asked what State he hails from, 
Our sole reply shall be, 
10 He comes from Appomattox, 

And its famous apple-tree." 

In obedience to instructions I should never dare to dis- 
regard — expressing, also, my own firm convictions — I rise 
to propose a nomination with which the country and the Re- 

15 publican party can grandly win. The election before us is 
to be the Austerlitz of American politics. It will decide, for 
many years, whether the country shall be Republican or 
Cossack. The supreme need of the hour is not a candidate 
who can carry Michigan. All Republican candidates can 

20 do that. The need is not of a candidate who is popular in 
the Territories, because they have no vote. The need is of 
a candidate who can carry doubtful States. Not the doubt- 
ful States of the North alone, but doubtful States of the 

^ Reprinted, by permission of Alfred R. Conkling, from Life of Roscoe 
Conkling, p. 596. 

125 



126 The Eulogy. 

South, which we have heard, if I understand it aright, ought 
to take little or no part here, because the South has nothing 
to give, but everything to receive. No, gentlemen, the need 
that presses upon the conscience of this Convention is of a 
candidate who can carry doubtful States both North and 5 
South. And believing that he, more surely than any other 
man, can carry New York against any opponent, and can 
carry not only the North, but several States of the South, 
New York is for Ulysses S. Grant. Never defeated in peace 
or in war, his name is the most illustrious borne by living man. 10 

His services attest his greatness, and the country — nay, 
the world — knows them by heart. His fame was earned 
not alone in things written and said, but by the arduous 
greatness of things done. And perils and emergencies will 
search in vain in the future, as they have searched in vain 15 
in the past, for any other on whom the nation leans with 
such confidence and trust. Never having had a policy to 
enforce against the will of the people, he never betrayed a 
cause or a friend, and the people will never desert nor 
betray him. Standing on the highest eminence of human 20 
distinction, modest, firm, simple and self-poised, h9,ving filled 
all lands with his renown, he has seen not only the high- 
born and the titled, but the poor and the lowly, in the utter- 
most ends of the earth, rise and uncover before him. He 
has studied the needs and the defects of many systems of 25 
government, and he has returned a better American than 
ever, with a wealth of knowledge and experience added to 
the hard common-sense which shone so conspicuously in all 
the fierce light that beat upon him during sixteen years, the 
most trying, the most portentous, the most perilous in the 30 
nation's history. 

Vilified and reviled, ruthlessly aspersed by unnumbered 
presses, not in other lands but in his own, assaults upon 
him have seasoned and strengthened his hold on the public 
heart. Calumny's ammunition has all been exploded: the 35 
powder has all been burned once : its force is spent : and 



Roscoe Conkling. 127 

the name of Grant will glitter a bright and imperishable star 
in the diadem of the republic when those that have tried to 
tarnish that name have mouldered in forgotten graves, and 
when their memories and their epitaphs have vanished 
5 utterly. 

Never elated by success, never depressed by adversity, he 
has ever, in peace as in war, shown the genius of common 
sense. The terms he prescribed for Lee's surrender fore- 
shadowed the wisest prophecies and principles of recon- 

10 struction. Victor in the greatest war of modern times, he 
quickly signalized his aversion to war and his love of peace 
by an arbitration of internal disputes which standi as the 
wisest, the most majestic example of its kind in the world's 
diplomacy. When inflation, at the height of its popularity 

15 and frenzy, had swept both Houses of Congress, it was the 
veto of Grant, which, single and alone, overthrew expansion 
and cleared the way for specie resumption. To him, im- 
measurably more than to any other man, is due the fact that 
every paper dollar is at last as good as gold. 

20 With him as our leader we shall have no defensive cam- 
paign. No ! We shall have nothing to explain away. We 
shall have no apologies to make. The shafts and the arrows 
have all been aimed at him, and they lie broken and harm- 
less at his feet. 

25 Life, liberty and property will find a safeguard in him. 
When he said of the colored men in Florida, ''Wherever I 
am, they may come also " — when he so said, he meant that, 
had he the power, the poor dwellers in the cabins of the 
South should no longer be driven in terror from the homes 

30 of their childhood and the graves of their murdered dead. 
When he refused to see Dennis Kearney in California, he 
meant that communism, lawlessness, and disorder, although 
it might stalk high-headed and dictate law to a whole city, 
would always find a foe in him. He meant that, popular or 

35 unpopular, he would hew to the line of right, let the chips 
fly where they may. 



128 The Eulogy. 

His integrity, his common-sense, his courage, his un- 
equalled experience, are the qualities offered to his country. 
The only argument, the only one that the wit of man or the 
stress of politics has devised is one that would dumbfounder 
Solomon, because he thought there was nothing new under 5 
the sun. Having tried Grant twice and found him faithful, 
we are told that we must not, even after an interval of years, 
trust him again. My countrymen ! my countrymen ! what 
stultification does not such a fallacy involve ! The Ameri- 
can people exclude Jefferson Davis from public trust. Why? 10 
why? because he was the arch-traitor and would-be de- 
stroyer; and now the same people are asked to ostracize 
Grant and not to trust him. Why ? why ? I repeat : because 
he was the arch-preserver of his country, and because, not 
only in war, but twice as civil magistrate, he gave his high- 15 
est, noblest efforts to the republic. Is this an electioneering 
juggle, or is it hypocrisy's masquerade ? There is no field 
of human activity, responsibility, or reason, in which rational 
beings object to an agent because he has been weighed in the 
balance and not found wanting. There is, I say, no depart- 20 
ment of human reason in which sane men reject an agent 
because he has had experience making him exceptionally 
competent and fit. From the man who shoes your horse to 
the lawyer who tries your cause, the officer who manages 
your railway or your mill, the doctor into whose hands you 25 
give your life, or the minister who seeks to save your soul, 
what man do you reject because by his works you have 
known him and found him faithful and fit ? What makes 
the Presidential office an exception to all things else in the 
common sense to be applied in selecting its incumbent? 30 
Who dares — who dares to put fetters on that free choice 
and judgment which is the birthright of the American peo- 
ple ? Can it be said that Grant has used official power and 
place to perpetuate his term ? He has no place, and official 
power has not been used for him. Without patronage and 35 
without emissaries, without committees, without bureaus, 



Roscoe Conkling. 129 

without telegraph wires running from his house to this Con- 
vention, or running from his house anywhere else, this man 
is the candidate whose friends have never threatened to bolt 
unless this Convention did as they said. He is a Republi- 
5 can who never wavers. He and his friends stand by the 
creed and the candidate of the Republican party. They 
hold the rightful rule of the majority as the very essence of 
their faith, and they mean to uphold that faith against not 
only the common enemy, but against the charlatans, jay- 

10 hawkers, tramps, and guerillas — the men who deploy 
between the lines, and forage now on one side and then 
on the other. This Convention is master of a supreme 
opportunity. It can name the next President. It can 
make sure of his election. It can make sure not only of 

15 his election, but of his certain and peaceful inauguration. 
More than all, it can break that power which dominates and 
mildews the South. It can overthrow an organization whose 
very existence is a standing protest against progress. 

The purpose of the Democratic party is spoils. Its very 

20 hope of existence is a solid South. Its success is a menace 
to order and prosperity. I say this Convention can over- 
throw that power. It can dissolve and emancipate a sohd 
South. It can speed the nation in a career of grandeur 
eclipsing all past achievements. 

25 Gentlemen, we have only to listen above the din and look 
beyond the dust of an hour to behold the Republican party 
advancing with its ensigns resplendent with illustrious 
achievements, marching to certain and lasting victory with 
its greatest Marshal at its head. 



130 The Eulogy. 

II. 

J. G. BLAINE. 

The Life and Character of James Abram Garfield. 

A Memorial Address delivered before both houses of Congress, at 
their request, in the hall of the House of Representatives, February 27, 
1882. 

[The day had been dedicated by Congress for memorial ser\-ices 
throughout the country to the late President. Mr. Blaine had for years 
been a close friend of President Garfield, and in his Cabinet was 
Secretary of State.] 

Mr. President : — For the second time in this generation 5 
the great departments of the Government of the United 
States are assembled in the Hall of Representatives to do 
honor to the memory of a murdered President. Lincoln fell 
at the close of a mighty struggle in which the passions of 
men had been deeply stirred. The tragical termination of 10 
his great life added but another to the lengthened succession 
of horrors which had marked so many lintels with the blood 
of the first born. Garfield was slain in a day of peace, 
when brother had been reconciled to brother, and when 
anger and hate had been banished from the land. "Who- 15 
ever shall hereafter draw the portrait of murder, if he will 
show it as it has been exhibited where such example was 
last to have been looked for, let him not give it the grim 
visage of Moloch, the brow knitted by revenge, the face 
black with settled hate. Let him draw, rather, a decorous 20 
smooth-faced, bloodless demon ; not so much an example 
of human nature in its depravity and in its paroxysms of 
crime, as an infernal being, a fiend in the ordinary display 
and development of his character." 

From the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth till the 25 
uprising against Charles First, about twenty thousand 
emigrants came from old England to New England. As 



J. G. Blaine. 131 

they came in pursuit of intellectual freedom and ecclesiasti- 
cal independence rather than for worldly honor and profit, 
the emigration naturally ceased when the contest for religious 
liberty began in earnest at home. The man who struck his 

5 most effective blow for freedom of conscience by sailing for 
the colonies in 1620 would have been accounted a deserter 
to leave after 1640. The opportunit}- had then come on the 
soil of England for that great contest which established the 
authorit}^ of Parliament, gave religious freedom to the people, 

10 sent Charles to the block, and committed to the hands of 
Oliver Cromwell the Supreme Executive authorit}^ of Eng- 
land. The English emigration was never renewed, and from 
these twent}^ thousand men with a small emigration from 
Scotland and from France are descended the vast numbers 

15 who have New England blood in their veins. 

In 1685 the revocation of the edict of Nantes by Louis 
XIV. scattered to other countries four hundred thousand 
Protestants, who were among the most intelligent and 
enterprising of French subjects — merchants of capital, 

20 skilled manufacturers and handicraftsmen, superior at the 
time to all others in Europe. A considerable number of 
these Huguenot French came to America ; a few landed in 
New England and became honorably prominent in its 
history. Their names have in large part become anglicised, 

25 or have disappeared, but their blood is traceable in many of 
the most reputable families, and their fame is perpetuated 
in honorable memorials and useful institutions. 

From these two sources, the English-Puritan and the 
French-Huguenot, came the late President — his father, 

30 xA.bram Garfield, being descended from the one, and his 
mother, Eliza Ballou, from the other. 

It was good stock on both sides — none better, none 
braver, none truer. There was in it an inheritance of 
courage, of manhness, of imperishable love of liberty, of 

35 undying adherence to principle. Garfield was proud of his 
blood ; and, with as much satisfaction as if he were a British 



132 The Eulogy. 

nobleman reading his stately ancestral record in Burke's 
Peerage, he spoke of himself as ninth in descent from 
those who would not endure the oppression of the Stuarts, 
and seventh in descent from the brave French Protestants 
who refused to submit to tyranny even from the Grand 5 
Monarque. 

General Garfield delighted to dwell on these traits, and, 
during his only visit to England, he busied himself in dis- 
covering every trace of his forefathers in parish registries 
and on ancient army rolls. Sitting with a friend in the 10 
gallery of the House of Commons, one night after a long 
day's labor in this field of research, he said, with evident 
elation, that in every war in which for three centuries 
patriots of English blood had struck sturdy blows for con- 
stitutional government and human liberty, his family had 15 
been represented. They were at Marston Moor, at Naseby 
and at Preston ; they were at Bunker Hill, at Saratoga, and 
at Monmouth, and in his own person had battled for the 
same great cause in the war which preserved the Union of 
the States. 20 

Losing his father before he was two years old, the early 
life of Garfield was one of privation, but its poverty has 
been made indelicately and unjustly prominent. Thousands 
of readers have imagined him as the ragged, starving child, 
whose reality too often greets the eye in the squalid sections 25 
of our large cities. General Garfield's infancy and youth 
had none of their destitution, none of their pitiful features 
appealing to the tender heart and to the open hand of 
charity. He was a poor boy in the same sense in which 
Henry Clay was a poor boy ; in which Andrew Jackson was 30 
a poor boy; in which Daniel Webster was a poor boy; in 
the sense in which a large majority of the eminent men of 
America in all generations have been poor boys. Before a 
great multitude of men, in a public speech, Mr. Webster 
bore this testimony : 35 

V " It did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin, but 



J. G. Blaine. 133 

my elder brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin 
raised amid the snow drifts of New Hampshire, at a period 
so early that when the smoke rose first from its rude chimney 
and curled over the frozen hills there was no similar evidence 
5 of a white man's habitation between it and the settlements 
on the rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist. I make to 
it an annual visit. I carry my children to it to teach them 
the hardships endured by the generations which have gone 
before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, 

10 the kindred ties, the early affections and the touching narra- 
tives and incidents which mingle with all I know of this 
primitive family abode." 

With the requisite change of scene the same words would 
aptly portray the early days of Garfield. The poverty of the 

15 frontier, where all are engaged in a common struggle, and 
where a common sympathy and hearty co-operation lighten 
the burdens of each, is a very different poverty, different in 
kind, dift'erent in influence and effect from that conscious 
and humiliating indigence which is every day forced to 

20 contrast itself with neighboring wealth, on which it feels a 
sense of grinding dependence. The poverty of the frontier 
is indeed no poverty. It is but the beginning of wealth, and 
has the boundless possibilities of the future always opening 
before it. No man ever grew up in the agricultural regions 

25 of the West, where a house-raising or even a corn-husking, 
is a matter of common interest and helpfulness, with any 
other feeling than that of broad-minded, generous independ- 
ence. This honorable independence marked the youth of 
Garfield as it marks the youth of millions of the best blood 

30 and brain now training for the future citizenship and future 
government of the republic. Garfield was born heir to land, 
to the title of freeholder, which has been the patent and 
passport of self-respect with the Anglo-Saxon race ever since 
Hengist and Horsa landed on the shores of England. His 

35 adventure on the canal — an alternative between that and 
the deck of a Lake Erie schooner — was a farmer boy's 



134 The Eulogy. 

device for earning money, just as the New England lad 
begins a possibly great career by sailing before the mast on 
a coasting vessel or on a merchantman bound to the farther 
India or to the China seas. 

No manly man feels anything of shame in looking back 5 
to early struggles with adverse circumstances, and no man 
feels a worthier pride than when he has conquered the 
obstacles to his progress. But no one of noble mould 
desires to be looked upon as having occupied a menial 
position, as having been repressed by a feeling of inferiority, lo 
or as having suffered the evils of poverty until relief was 
found at the hand of charity. General Garfield's youth 
presented no hardships which family love and family energy 
did not overcome, subjected him to no privations which he 
did not cheerfully accept, and left no memories save those 15 
which were recalled with delight and transmitted with profit 
and with pride. 

Garfield's early opportunities for securing an education 
were extremely limited, and yet were sufficient to develop 
in him an intense desire to learn. He could read at three 20 
years of age, and each winter he had the advantage of the 
district school. He read all the books to be found within 
the circle of his acquaintance ; some of them he got by 
heart. While yet in childhood he was a constant student of 
the Bible, and became familiar with its literature. The dig- 25 
nity and earnestness of his speech in his maturer life gave 
evidence of this early training. At eighteen years of age he 
was able to teach school, and thenceforward his ambition 
was to obtain a college education. To this end he bent all his 
efforts, working in the harvest field, at the carpenter's bench, 30 
and, in the winter season, teaching the common schools of 
the neighborhood. While thus laboriously occupied he found 
time to prosecute his studies, and was so successful that at 
twenty-two years of age he was able to enter the junior class 
at Williams College, then under the Presidency of the vener- 35 
able and honored Mark Hopkins, who, in the fullness of his 



J. G. Blaine. 135 

powers, survives the eminent pupil to whom he was of inesti- 
mable service. 

The history of Garfield's life to this period presents no 
novel features. He had undoubtedly shown perseverance, 
5 self-reliance, self-sacrifice and ambition — qualities which, 
be it said for the honor of our country, are everywhere to be 
found among the young men of America. But from his 
graduation at Williams onward, to the hour of his tragical 
death, Garfield's career was eminent and exceptional. 

10 Slowly working through his educational period, receiving 
his diploma when twenty-four years of age, he seemed at 
one bound to spring into conspicuous and brilliant success. 
Within six years he was successively President of a college, 
State Senator of Ohio, Major-General of the army of the 

15 United States and Representative-elect to the National 
Congress. A combination of honors so varied, so elevated, 
within a period so brief and to a man so young, is without 
precedent or parallel in the history of the country. 

Garfield's army life was begun with no other military 

20 knowledge than such as he had hastily gained from books 
in the few months preceding his march to the field. Step- 
ping from civil life to the head of a regiment, the first order 
he received when ready to cross the Ohio was to assume 
command of a brigade, and to operate as an independent 

25 force in Eastern Kentucky. His immediate duty was to 
check the advance of Humphrey Marshall, who was march- 
ing down the Big Sandy with the intention of occupying, in 
connection with other Confederate forces, the entire territory 
of Kentucky, and of precipitating the State into secession. 

30 This was at the close of the year 1861. Seldom, if ever, 
has a young college professor been thrown into a more 
embarrassing and discouraging position. He knew just 
enough of military science, as he expressed it himself, to 
measure the extent of his ignorance, and with a handful of 

35 men he was marching, in rough winter weather, into a strange 
country, among a hostile population, to confront a largely 



136 The Eulogy. 

superior force under the command of a distinguished gradu- 
ate of West Point, who had seen active and important service 
in two preceding wars. 

The result of the campaign is matter of history. The 
skill, the endurance, the extraordinary energy shown by 5 
Garfield, the courage he imparted to his men, raw and un- 
tried as himself, the measures he adopted to increase his 
force and to create in the enemy's mind exaggerated esti- 
mates of his numbers, bore perfect fruit in the routing of 
Marshall, the capture of his camp, the dispersion of his 10 
force, and the emancipation of an important territory from 
the control of the rebellion. Coming at the close of a long 
series of disasters to the Union arms, Garfield's victory had 
an unusual and extraneous importance, and, in the popular 
judgment, elevated the young commander to the rank of 15 
a military hero. With less than two thousand men in his 
entire command, with a mobilized force of only eleven hun- 
dred, without cannon, he had met an army of five thousand 
and defeated them — driving Marshall's forces successively 
from two strongholds of their own selection, fortified with 20 
abundant artillery. Major-Gen. Buell, commanding the 
Department of the Ohio, an experienced and able soldier of 
the Regular Army, published an order of thanks and con- 
gratulation on the brilliant result of the Big Sandy campaign, 
which would have turned the head of a less cool and sensible 25 
man than Garfield. Buell declared that his services had 
called into action the highest qualities of a soldier, and 
President Lincoln supplemented these words of praise by the 
more substantial reward of a Brigadier-General's commis- 
sion, to bear date from the day of his decisive victory over 30 
Marshall. 

The subsequent military career of Garfield fully sustained 
its brilliant beginning. With his new commission he was 
assigned to the command of a brigade in the Army of the 
Ohio, and took part in the second and decisive day's fight 35 
in the great battle of Shiloh. The remainder of the year 



J. G. Blaine. 137 

1862 was not especially eventful to Garfield, as it was not to 
the armies with which he was serving. His practical sense 
was called into exercise in completing the task, assigned him 
by General Buell, of reconstructing bridges and re-establish- 
5 ing lines of railway communication for the Army. His 
occupation in this useful but not brilliant field was varied by 
service on courts martial of importance, in which department 
of duty he won a valuable reputation, attracting the notice 
and securing the approval of the able and eminent Judge 

10 Advocate General of the Army. That of itself was warrant 
to honorable fame ; for among the great men who in those 
trying days gave themselves, with entire devotion, to the 
service of their country, one who brought to that service the 
ripest learning, the most fervid eloquence, the most varied 

15 attainments, who labored with modesty and shunned 
applause, who in the day of triumph sat reserved and 
silent and grateful — as Francis Deak in the hour of Hun- 
gary's deliverance — was Joseph Holt of Kentucky, who in 
his honorable retirement enjoys the respect and veneration 

20 of all who love the Union of the States. 

Early in 1863 Garfield was assigned to the highly impor- 
tant and responsible post of chief of staff to General Rose- 
crans, then at the head of the Army of the Cumberland. 
Perhaps in a great military campaign no subordinate officer 

25 requires sounder judgment and quicker knowledge of men 
than the chief of staff to the commanding general. An 
indiscreet man in such a position can sow more discord, 
breed more jealousy and disseminate more strife than any 
other officer in the entire organization. When General 

30 Garfield assumed his new duties he found various troubles 
already well developed and seriously affecting the value and 
efficiency of the Army of the Cumberland. The energy, the 
impartiality, and the tact with which he sought to allay these 
dissensions and to discharge the duties of his new and trying 

35 position will always remain one of the most striking proofs of 
his great versatility. His military duties closed on the memo- 



138 The Eulogy. 

rable field of Chickamauga, a field, which however disastrous 
to the Union arms, gave to him the occasion of winning 
imperishable laurels. The very rare distinction was ac- 
corded him of a great promotion for his bravery on a field 
that was lost. President Lincoln appointed him a Major- 5 
General in the army of the United States for gallant and 
meritorious conduct in the battle of Chickamauga. 

The Army of the Cumberland was reorganized under the 
command of General Thomas who promptly offered Gar- 
field one of its divisions. He was extremely desirous to 10 
accept the position, but was embarrassed by the fact that he 
had, a year before, been elected to Congress, and the time 
when he must take his seat was drawing near. He preferred 
to remain in the military service, and had within his own 
breast the largest confidence of success in the wider field 15 
which his new rank opened to him. Balancing the argu- 
ments on the one side and the other, anxious to determine 
what was for the best, desirous above all things to do his 
patriotic duty, he was decisively influenced by the advice of 
President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton, both of whom 20 
assured him that he could, at that time, be of especial value 
in the House of Representatives. He resigned his commis- 
sion of Major-General on the 5th day of December, 1863, 
and took his seat in the House of Representatives on the 7th. 
He had served two years and four months in the army, and 25 
had just completed his thirty-second year. 

The Thirty-eighth Congress is pre-eminently entitled in 
history to the designation of the War Congress. It was 
elected while the war was flagrant, and every member was 
chosen upon the issues involved in the continuance of the 30 
struggle. The Thirty-seventh Congress had, indeed, legis- 
lated to a large extent on war measures, but it was chosen 
before any one believed that secession of the States would 
be actually attempted. The magnitude of the work which 
fell upon its successor was unprecedented, both in respect 35 
to the vast sums of money raised for the support of the 



J. G. Blaine. 139 

Army and Navy, and of the new and extraordinary powers 
of legislation which it was forced to exercise. Only twenty- 
four States were represented, and one hundred and eighty- 
two members were upon its roll. Among, these were many 
5 distinguished party leaders on both sides, veterans in the 
public service, with established reputations for ability, and 
with that skill which comes only from parliamentary experi- 
ence. Into this assemblage of men Garfield entered with- 
out special preparation, and it might almost be said unex- 

10 pectedly. The question of taking command of a division 
of troops under General Thomas, or taking his seat in Con- 
gress, was kept open till the last moment, so late, indeed, 
that the resignation of his military commission and his 
appearance in the House were almost contemporaneous. 

15 He wore the uniform of a Major-General of the United 
States Army on Saturday, and on Monday, in civilian's 
dress, he answered to the roll-call as a Representative in 
Congress from the State of Ohio. 

He was especially fortunate in the constituency which 

20 elected him. Descended almost entirely from New England 
stock, the men of the Ashtabula District were intensely 
radical on all questions relating to human rights. Well 
educated, thrifty, thoroughly intelligent in affairs, acutely 
discerning of character, not quick to bestow confidence, and 

25 slow to withdraw it, they were at once the most helpful and 
most exacting of supporters. Their tenacious trust in men 
in whom they have once confided is illustrated by the un- 
paralleled fact that Elisha Whittlesey, Joshua R. Giddings 
and James A. Garfield represented the district for fifty-four 

30 years. 

There is no test of a man's ability in any department of 
public life more severe than service in the House of Repre- 
sentatives ; there is no place where so little deference is paid 
to reputation previously acquired, or to eminence won out- 

35 side ; no place where so little consideration is shown for the 
feelings or the failures of beginners. What a man gains in 



140 The Eulogy. 

the House he gains by sheer force of his own character, and 
if he loses and falls back he must expect no mercy and | 
will receive no sympathy. It is a field in which the survival * 
of the strongest is the recognized rule, and where no pretence 
can deceive and no glamour can mislead. The real man is 5 
discovered, his worth is impartially weighed, his rank is 
irreversibly decreed. 

With possibly a single exception, Garfield was the young- 
est member in the House when he entered, and was but 
seven years from his college graduation. But he had not 10 
been in his seat sixty days before his ability was recognized 
and his place conceded. He stepped to the front with the 
confidence of one who belonged there. The House was 
crowded with strong men of both parties ; nineteen of them 
have since been transferred to the Senate, and many of them 15 
have served with distinction in the gubernatorial chairs of 
their respective States, and on foreign missions of great con- 
sequence ; but among them all none grew so rapidly, none 
so firmly as Garfield. As is said by Trevelyan of his par- 
liamentary hero, Garfield succeeded " because all the world 20 
in concert could not have kept him in the background, and 
because, when once in the front, he played his part with a 
prompt intrepidity and a commanding ease that were but the 
outward symptoms of the immense reserves of energy, on 
which it was in his power to draw." Indeed, the apparently 25 
reserved force which Garfield possessed was one of his great 
characteristics. He never did so well but that it seemed he 
could easily have done better. He never expended so much 
strength but that he seemed to be holding additional power 
at call. This is one of the happiest and rarest distinctions 30 
of an effective debater, and often counts for as much in 
persuading an assembly as the eloquent and elaborate 
argument. 

The great measure of Garfield's fame was filled by his 
service in the House of Representatives. His military 35 
life, illustrated by honorable performance, and rich in 



J. G. Blaine. 141 

promise, was, as he himself feh, prematurely terminated, 
and necessarily incomplete. Speculation as to what he 
might have done in a field, where the great prizes are so 
few, cannot be profitable. It is sufficient to say that as a 
q soldier he did his duty bravely ; he did it intelligently ; he 
won an enviable fame, and he retired from the service with- 
out blot or breath against him. As a lawyer, though admi- 
rably equipped for the profession, he can scarcely be said to 
have entered on its practice. The few efforts he made at 

10 the bar were distinguished by the same high order of talent 
which he exhibited on every field where he was put to the 
test, and if a man may be accepted as a competent judge of 
his own capacities and adaptations, the law was the profes- 
sion to which Garfield should have devoted himself. But 

15 fate ordained otherwise, and his reputation in history will 
rest largely upon his service in the House of Representa- 
tives. That service was exceptionally long. He was nine 
times consecutively chosen to the House, an honor enjoyed 
by not more than six other Representatives of the more than 

20 five thousand who have been elected from the organization 
of the Government to this hour. 

As a parliamentary orator, as a debater on an issue 
squarely joined, where the position had been chosen and 
the ground laid out, Garfield must be assigned a very high 

25 rank. More, perhaps, than any man with whom he was 
associated in public life, he gave careful and systematic 
study to public questions, and he came to every discussion 
in which he took part with elaborate and complete prepara- 
tion. He was a steady and indefatigable worker. Those 

30 who imagine that talent or genius can supply the place or 
achieve the results of labor will find no encouragement in 
Garfield's life. In preliminary work he was apt, rapid and 
skillful. He possessed in a high degree the power of readily 
absorbing ideas and facts, and like Dr. Johnson, had the 

35 art of getting from a book all that was of value in it by a 
reading apparently so quick and cursory that it seemed like 



142 The Eulogy. 

a mere glance at the table of contents. He was a pre-emi- 
nently fair and candid man in debate, took no petty advan- 
tage, stooped to no unworthy methods, avoided personal 
allusions, rarely appealed to prejudice, did not seek to 
inflame passion. He had a quicker eye for the strong point c 
of his adversary than for his weak point, and on his own 
side he so marshaled his weighty arguments as to make his 
hearers forget any possible lack in the complete strength of 
his position. He had a habit of stating his opponent's side 
with such amplitude of fairness and such liberality of con- 10 
cession that his followers often complained that he was giv- 
ing his case away. But never in his prolonged participation 
in the proceedings of the House did he give his case away, 
or fail in the judgment of competent and impartial listeners 
to gain the mastery. 15 

These characteristics, which marked Garfield as a great 
debater, did not, however, make him a great parliamentary 
leader. A parliamentary leader, as that term is understood 
wherever free representative government exists, is necessarily 
and very strictly the organ of his party. An ardent Ameri- 20 
can defined the instinctive warmth of patriotism when he 
offered the toast, " Our country, always right ; but right or 
wrong, our country." The parliamentary leader who has a 
body of followers that will do and dare and die for the 
cause is one who believes his party always right, but right 25 
or wrong, is for his party. No more important or exacting 
duty devolves upon him than the selection of the field and 
the time for contest. He must know not merely how to 
strike, but where to strike and when to strike. He often 
skillfully avoids the strength of his opponent's position and qo 
scatters confusion in his ranks by attacking an exposed 
point when really the righteousness of the cause and the 
strength of logical intrenchment are against him. He con- 
quers often both against the right and the heavy battalions ; 
as when young Charles Fox, in the days of his Toryism, 35 
carried the House of Commons against justice, against its 



J. G. Blaine. 143 

immemorial rights, against his own convictions, if, indeed, 
at that period Fox had convictions, and, in the interest of 
a corrupt administration, in obedience to a tyrannical sover- 
eign, drove Wilkes from the seat to which the electors of 
5 Middlesex had chosen him and installed Luttrell, in defiance 
not merely of law but of public decency. For an achieve- 
ment of that kind Garfield was disqualified — disqualified by 
the texture of his mind, by the honesty of his heart, by his 
conscience and by every instinct and aspiration of his 

10 nature. 

The three most distinguished parliamentary leaders hitherto 
developed in this country are Mr. Clay, Mr. Douglas and 
Mr. Thaddeus Stevens. Each was a man of consummate 
ability, of great earnestness, of intense personality, differing 

15 widely, each from the others, and yet with a single trait in 
common — the power to command. In the give and take of 
daily discussion, in the art of controlling and consolidating 
reluctant and refractory followers ; in the skill to overcome all 
forms of opposition, and to meet with competency and courage 

20 the var}'ing phases of unlooked-for assault or unsuspected 
defection, it would be difficult to rank with these a fourth 
name in all our Congressional history. But of these Mr. Clay 
was the greatest. It would, perhaps, be impossible to find in 
the parliamentary annals of the world a parallel to Mr. Clay, in 

25 1 84 1, when at sixty-four years of age he took the control of 
the Whig party from the President who had received their 
suffrages, against the power of Webster in the Cabinet, 
against the eloquence of Choate in the Senate, against the 
herculean efforts of Caleb Cushing and Henry A. Wise in 

30 the House. In unshared leadership, in the pride and plenti- 
tude of power, he hurled against John Tyler wdth deepest 
scorn the mass of that conquering column which had swept 
over the land in 1840, and drove his administration to seek 
shelter behind the lines of his political foes. Mr. Douglas 

35 achieved a victory scarcely less wonderful, when, in 1854, 
against the secret desires of a strong administration, against 



144 The Eulogy. 

the wise counsel of the older chiefs, against the conservative 
instincts and even the moral sense of the country, he forced a 
reluctant Congress into a repeal of the Missouri compromise. 
Mr. Thaddeus Stevens, in his contests from 1865 to 1868, 
actually advanced his parliamentary leadership until Congress 5 
tied the hands of the President and governed the country by 
its own will, leaving only perfunctory duties to be discharged 
by the Executive. With two hundred millions of patronage 
in his hands at the opening of the contest, aided by the active 
force of Seward in the Cabinet and the moral power of Chase 10 
on the Bench, Andrew Johnson could not command the sup- 
port of one-third in either House against the parliamentary 
uprising of which Thaddeus Stevens was the animating 
spirit and the unquestioned leader. 

From these three great men Garfield differed radically, dif- 15 
fered in the quality of mind, in temperament, in the form and 
phase of ambition. He could not do what they did, but he 
could do what they could not, and in the breadth of his 
Congressional work he left that which will longer exert a 
potential influence among men, and which, measured by the 20 
severe test of posthumous criticism, will secure a more endur- 
ing and more enviable fame. 

Those unfamiliar with Garfield's industry, and ignorant of 
the details of his work, may, in some degree, measure them ■ 
by the annals of Congress. No one of the generation of pub- 25 
lie men to which he belonged has contributed so much that 
will be valuable for future reference. His speeches are 
numerous, many of them brilliant, all of them well studied, 
carefully phrased, and exhaustive of the subject under 
consideration. Collected from the scattered pages of ninety 30 
royal octavo volumes of Congressional record, they would 
present an invaluable compendium of the political history of 
the most important era through which the National Govern- 
ment has ever passed. When the history of this period shall 
be impartially written, when war legislation, measures of 35 
reconstruction, protection of human rights, amendments to 



J. G. Blaine. 145 

the Constitution, maintenance of public credit, steps toward 
specie resumption, true theories of revenue may be reviewed, 
unsurrounded by prejudice and disconnected from partisanism, 
the speeches of Garfield will be estimated at their true value, 

* 5 and will be found to comprise a vast magazine of fact and 
argument, of clear analysis and sound conclusion. Indeed, 
if no other authority were accessible, his speeches in the 
House of Representatives from December, 1863, to June, 
1880, would give a well connected history and complete de- 

10 fence of the important legislation of the seventeen eventful 
years that constitute his parliamentary life. Far beyond that, 
his speeches would be found to forecast many great measures 
yet to be completed — measures which he knew were beyond 
the public opinion of the hour, but which he confidently 

15 believed would secure popular approval within the period of 
his own lifetime, and by the aid of his own efforts. 

Differing, as Garfield does, from the brilliant parlia- 
mentary leaders, it is not easy to find his counterpart any- 
where in the record of American public life. He perhaps 

20 more nearly resembles Mr. Seward in his supreme faith in 
the all-conquering power of a principle. He had the love 
of learning, and the patient industry of investigation, to 
which John Quincy Adams owes his prominence and his 
Presidency. He had some of those ponderous elements of 

25 mind which distinguished Mr. Webster, and which, indeed, 
in all our public life, have left the great Massachusetts Sen- 
ator without an intellectual peer. 

In English parhamentary history, as in our own, the 
leaders in the House of Commons present points of essen- 

30 tial difference from Garfield. But some of his methods 
recall the best features in the strong, independent course 
of Sir Robert Peel, and striking resemblances are discerni- 
ble in that most promising of modern conservatives, who 
died too early for his country and his fame, the Lord George 

35 Bentinck. He had all of Burke's love for the Sublime and 
the Beautiful, with, possibly, something of his superabun- 



146 The Eulogy. 

dance ; and in his faith and his magnanimity, in his power 
of statement, in his subtle analysis, in his faultless logic, in 
his love of literature, in his wealth and world of illustration, 
one is reminded of that great English statesman of to-day, 
who, confronted with obstacles that would daunt any but the 5 
dauntless, reviled by those whom he would relieve as bitterly 
as by those whose supposed rights he is forced to invade, 
still labors with serene courage for the amelioration of Ire- 
land and for the honor of the English name. 

Garfield's nomination to the Presidency, while not pre- 10 
dieted or anticipated, was not a surprise to the country. His 
prominence in Congress, his solid qualities, his wide reputa- 
tion, strengthened by his then recent election as Senator 
from Ohio, kept him in the public eye as a man occupying 
the very highest rank among those entitled to be called 15 
statesmen. It was not mere chance that brought him this 
high honor. " We must, " says Mr. Emerson, " reckon suc- 
cess a constitutional trait. If Eric is in robust health and 
has slept well and is at the top of his condition, and thirty 
years old at his departure from Greenland, he will steer west 20 
and his ships will reach Newfoundland. But take Eric out 
and put in a stronger and bolder man and the ships will sail 
six hundred, one thousand, fifteen hundred miles further and 
reach Labrador and New England. There is no chance in 
results." 25 

As a candidate, Garfield grew steadily in popular favor. 
He was met with a storm of detraction at the very hour of 
his nomination, and it continued with increasing volume and 
momentum until the close of his victorious campaign : 

" No might nor greatness in mortality ^O 

Can censure 'scape ; backwounding calumny 
The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong 
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue." 

Under it all he was calm and strong, and confident; 
never lost his self-possession, did no unwise act, spoke no 35 



J. G. Blaine. 147 

hasty or ill-considered word. Indeed, nothing in his whole 
life is more remarkable or more creditable than his bearing 
through those five full months of vituperation — a prolonged 
agony of trial to a sensitive man, a constant and cruel draft 
5 upon the powers of moral endurance. The great mass of 
these unjust imputations passed unnoticed, and with the 
general debris of the campaign fell into oblivion. But in a 
few instances the iron entered his soul and he died with the 
injury unforgotten if not unforgiven. 

10 One aspect of Garfield's candidacy was unprecedented. 
Never before, in the history of partisan contests in this 
country, had a successful Presidential candidate spoken 
freely on passing events and current issues. To attempt 
anything of the kind seemed novel, rash and even desperate. 

15 The older class of voters recalled the unfortunate Alabama 
letter, in which Mr. Clay was supposed to have signed his 
political death warrant. They remembered also the hot- 
tempered effusion by which General Scott lost a large share 
of his popularity before his nomination, and the unfortunate 

20 speeches which rapidly consumed the remainder. The 
younger voters had seen Mr. Greeley in a series of vigorous 
and original addresses preparing the pathway for his own 
defeat. Unmindful of these v/arnings, unheeding the ad- 
vice of friends, Garfield spoke to large crowds as he jour- 

25 neyed to and from New York in August, to a great multitude 
in that city, to delegations and deputations of every kind that 
called at Mentor during the summer and autumn. With 
innumerable critics, watchful and eager to catch a phrase 
that might be turned into odium or ridicule, or a sentence 

30 that might be distorted to his own or his party's injury, 
Garfield did not trip or halt in any one of his seventy 
speeches. This seems all the more remarkable when it is 
remembered that he did not write what he said, and yet 
spoke with such logical consecutiveness of thought and such 

35 admirable precision of phrase as to defy the accident of 
inisreport and the malignity of misrepresentation, 



148 The Eulogy. 

In the beginning of his Presidential Ufe Garfield's experi- 
ence did not yield him pleasure or satisfaction. The duties 
that engross so large a portion of the President's time were 
distasteful to him, and were unfavorably contrasted with his 
legislative work. " I have been dealing all these years with 5 
ideas, " he impatiently exclaimed one day, " and here I am 
dealing only with persons. I have been heretofore treating 
of the fundamental principles of government and here I am 
considering all day whether A or B shall be appointed to 
this or that office. " He was earnestly seeking some prac- 10 
tical way of correcting the evils arising from the distribution 
of overgrown and unwieldy patronage — evils always appre- 
ciated and often discussed by him, but whose magnitude 
had been more deeply impressed upon his mind since his 
accession to the Presidency. Had he lived, a comprehensive 15 
improvement in the mode of appointment and in the tenure 
of office would have been proposed by him, and with the aid 
of Congress no doubt perfected. 

But, while many of the executive duties were not grateful 
to him, he was assiduous and conscientious in their dis- 20 
charge. From the very outset he exhibited administrative 
talent of a high order. He grasped the helm of office with 
the hand of a master. In this respect indeed he con- 
stantly surprised many who were most intimately associated 
with him in the Government, and especially those who had 25 
feared that he might be lacking in the executive faculty. 
His disposition of business was orderly and rapid. His 
power of analysis, and his skill in classification, enabled him 
to dispatch a vast mass of detail with singular promptness 
and ease. His Cabinet meetings were admirably conducted. 30 
His clear presentation of official subjects, his well-considered 
suggestion of topics on which discussion was invited, his 
quick decision when all had been heard, combined to show 
a thoroughness of mental training as rare as his natural 
ability and his facile adaptation to a new and enlarged field 35 
of labor. 



J. G. Blaine. 149 

With perfect comprehension of all the inheritances of the 
war, with a cool calculation of the obstacles in his way, 
impelled always by a generous enthusiasm, Garfield conceived 
that much might be done by his administration toward re- 
5 storing harmony between the different sections of the Union. 
He was anxious to go South and speak to the people. As 
early as April he had ineffectually endeavored to arrange for 
a trip to Nashville, whither he had been cordially invited, and 
he was again disappointed a few weeks later to find that he 

10 could not go to South Carolina to attend the centennial cele- 
bration of the victory of the Cowpens. But for the autumn 
he definitely counted on being present at three memorable 
assemblies in the South — the celebration at Yorktown, the 
opening of the Cotton Exposition at Atlanta, and the 

15 meeting of the Army of the Cumberland at Chattanooga. 
He was already turning over in his mind his address for each 
occasion, and the three taken together, he said to a friend, 
gave him the exact scope and verge which he needed. At 
Yorktown he would have before him the associations of a hun- 

20 dred years that bound the South and the North in the sacred 
memory of a common danger and a common victory. At 
Atlanta he would present the material interests and the indus- 
trial development which appealed to the thrift and independ- 
ence of every household, and which should unite the two 

25 sections by the instinct of self-interest and self-defence. At 
Chattanooga he would revive memories of the war only to 
show that after all its disaster and all its suffering, the 
country was stronger and greater, the Union rendered indis- 
soluble, and the future, through the agony and blood of one 

30 generation, made brighter and better for all. 

Garfield's ambition for the success of his administration 
was high. With strong caution and conservatism in his 
nature, he was in no danger of attempting rash experiments 
or of resorting to the empiricism of statesmanship. But he 

35 believed that renewed and closer attention should be given 
to questions affecting the material interests and commercial 



150 The Eulogy. 

prospects of fifty millions of people. He believed that our 
continental relations, extensive and undeveloped as they are, 
involved responsibility, and could be cultivated into profitable 
friendship or be abandoned to harmful indifference or lasting 
enmity. He believed with equal confidence that an essential 5 
forerunner to a new era of national progress must be a feeling 
of contentment in every section of the Union, and a generous 
belief that the benefits and burdens of Government would be 
common to all. Himself a conspicuous illustration of what 
ability and ambition may do under Republican institutions, he 10 
loved his country with a passion of patriotic devotion, and 
every waking thought was given to her advancement. He 
was an American in all his aspirations, and he looked to the 
destiny and influence of the United States with the philo- 
sophical composure of Jefferson and the demonstrative confi- 15 
dence of John Adams. 

The political events which disturbed the President's 
serenity for many weeks before that fateful day in July form 
an important chapter in his career, and, in his own judgment, 
involved questions of principle and of right which are vitally 20 
essential to the constitutional administration of the Federal 
Government. It would be out of place here and now to speak 
the language of controversy ; but the events referred to, how- 
ever they may continue to be a source of contention with others, 
have become, so far as Garfield is concerned, as much a matter 25 
of history as his heroism at Chickamauga or his illustrious ser- 
vice in the House. Detail is not needful, and personal antag- 
onism shall not be rekindled by any word uttered to-day. 
The motives of those opposing him are not to be here adversely 
interpreted nor their course harshly characterized. But of 30 
the dead President this is to be said, and said because his 
own speech is forever silenced and he can be no more heard 
except through the fidelity and the love of surviving friends: 
From the beginning to the end of the controversy he so much 
deplored, the President was never for one moment actuated 35 
by any motive of gain to himself or of loss to others. Least 



J. G. Blaine. 151 

of all men did he harbor revenge, rarely did he even show 
resentment, and malice was not in his nature. He was con- 
genially employed only in the exchange of good offices and 
the doing of kindly deeds. 
^ There was not an hour, from the beginning of the trouble 
till the fatal shot entered his body when the President would 
not gladly, for the sake of restoring harmony, have retraced 
any step he had taken if such retracing had merely involved 
consequences personal to himself. The pride of consistency, 

10 or any supposed sense of humiliation that might result from 
surrendering his position, had not a feather's weight with 
him. No man was ever less subject to such influences from 
within or from without. But after most anxious deliberation 
and the coolest survey of all the circumstances, he solemnly 

15 believed that the true prerogatives of the Executive were in- 
volved in the issue which had been raised, and that he would 
be unfaithful to his supreme obligation if he failed to maintain, 
in all their vigor, the constitutional rights and dignities of his 
great office. He believed this in all the convictions of con- 

20 science when in sound and vigorous health, and he believed 
it in his suffering and prostration in the last conscious 
thought which his wearied mind bestowed on the transitory 
struggles of life. 

More than this need not be said. Less than this could 

25 not be said. Justice to the dead, the highest obligation that 
devolves upon the living, demands the declaration that in all 
the bearings on the subject, actual or possible, the President 
was content in his mind, justified in his conscience, immov- 
able in his conclusions. 

30 .The religious element in Garfield's character was deep 
and earnest. In his early youth he espoused the faith of the 
Disciples, a sect of that great Baptist Communion, which in 
different ecclesiastical establishments is so numerous and so 
influential throughout all parts of the United States. But 

35 the broadening tendency of his mind and his active spirit of 
inquiry were early apparent and carried him beyond the dog- 



152 The Eulogy. 

mas of sect and the restraints of association. In selecting a 
college in which to continue his education he rejected Beth- 
any, though presided over by Alexander Campbell, the 
greatest preacher of his church. His reasons were charac- 
teristic ; first, that Bethany leaned too heavily toward slavery ; 5 
and, second, that being himself a Disciple and the son of 
Disciple parents, he had little acquaintance with people of 
other beliefs, and he thought it would make him more liberal, 
quoting his own words, both in his religious and general 
views, to go into a new circle and be under new influences. 10 

The liberal tendency which he anticipated as the result of 
wider culture was fully realized. He was emancipated from 
mere sectarian belief, and with eager interest pushed his in- 
vestigations in the direction of modern progressive thought. 
He followed with quickening step in the paths of exploration 15 
and speculation so fearlessly trodden by Darwin, by Huxley, 
by Tyndall, and by other living scientists of the radical and 
advanced type. His own church, binding its disciples by no 
formulated creed, but accepting the Old and New Testa- 
ments as the Word of God with unbiased liberality of private 20 
interpretation, favored, if it did not stimulate, the spirit of 
investigation. Its members profess with sincerity, and pro- 
fess only, to be of one mind and one faith with those who 
immediately followed the Master, and who were first called 
Christians at Antioch. 25 

But however high Garfield reasoned of " fixed fate, free 
will, foreknowledge absolute," he was never separated from 
the Church of the Disciples in his affections and in his as- 
sociations. For him it held the ark of the covenant. To 
him it was the gate of heaven. The world of religious be- 30 
lief is full of solecisms and contradictions. A philosophic 
observer declares that men by the thousands will die in de- 
fence of a creed whose doctrines they do not comprehend 
and whose tenets they habitually violate. It is equally true 
that men by the thousand will cling to church organizations 35 
with instinctive and undying fidelity when their belief in 



J. G. Blaine. 153 

maturer years is radically diiferent from that which inspired 
them as neophytes. 

But after this range of speculation and this latitude of 
doubt, Garfield came back always with freshness and delight 
5 to the simpler instincts of religious faith, which, earliest im- 
planted, longest survive. Not many weeks before his assas- 
sination, walking on the banks of the Potomac with a friend, 
and conversing on those topics of personal religion, concern- 
ing which noble natures have an unconquerable reserve, he 

10 said that he found the Lord's Prayer and the simple petitions 
learned in infancy infinitely restful to him, not merely in 
their stated repetition, but in their casual and frequent recall 
as he went about the daily duties of life. Certain texts of 
Scriptures had a very strong hold on his memory and his 

15 heart. He heard, while in Edinburgh some years ago, an 
eminent Scotch preacher who prefaced his sermon with 
reading the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, 
which book had been the subject of careful study with Gar- 
field during all his religious life. He was greatly impressed 

20 by the elocution of the preacher, and declared that it had 
imparted a new and deeper meaning to the majestic utter- 
ances of Saint Paul. He referred often in after years to 
that memorable service, and dwelt wdth exaltation of feehng 
upon the radiant promise and the assured hope with which 

25 the great apostle of the Gentiles was " persuaded that neither 
death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor 
things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, 
nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the 
love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

30 The crowning characteristic of General Garfield's religious 
opinions, as, indeed, of all his opinions, was his liberality. 
In all things he had charity. Tolerance was of his nature. 
He respected in others the qualities which he possessed him- 
self — sincerity of conviction and frankness of expression. 

35 With him the inquiry was not so much what a man believes, 
but does he believe it ? The lines of his friendship and his 



154 The Eulogy. 

confidence encircled men of every creed, and men of no 
creed, and to the end of his life, on his ever-lengthening list 
of friends, were to be found the names of a pious Catholic 
priest and of an honest-minded and generous-hearted free- 
thinker. 5 

On the morning of Saturday, July 2, the President was a 
contented and happy man — not in an ordinary degree, but 
joyfully, almost boyishly happy. On his way to the railroad 
station, to which he drove slowly, in conscious enjoyment of 
the beautiful morning, with an unwonted sense of leisure and 10 
a keen anticipation of pleasure, his talk was all in the grate- 
ful and gratulatory vein. He felt that after four months of 
trial his administration was strong in its grasp of affairs, 
strong in popular favor and destined to grow stronger ; that 
grave difficulties confronting him at his inauguration had 15 
been safely passed ; that trouble lay behind him and not 
before him ; that he was soon to meet the wife whom he 
loved, now recovering from an illness which had but lately 
disquieted and at times almost unnerved him ; that he was 
going to his Alma Mater to renew the most cherished asso- 20 
ciations of his young manhood, and to exchange greetings 
with those whose deepening interest had followed every step 
of his upward progress from the day he entered upon his 
college course until he had attained the loftiest elevation in 
the gift of his countrymen. 25 

Surely if happiness can ever come from the honors or 
triumphs of this world, on that quiet July morning James A. 
Garfield may well have been a happy man. No foreboding 
of evil haunted him; no slightest premonition of danger 
clouded his sky. His terrible fate was upon him in an in- 30 
stant. One moment he stood erect, strong, confident in the 
years stretching peacefully out before him. The next he 
lay wounded, bleeding, helpless, doomed to weary weeks of 
torture, to silence, and the grave. 

Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. For no 35 
cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, by 



J. G. Blaine. 155 

the red hand of murder, he was thrust from the full tide of 
this world's interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its vic- 
tories, into the visible presence of death — and he did not 
quail. Not alone for the one short moment in which, stunned 
5 and dazed, he could give up life, hardly aware of its relin- 
quishment, but through days of deadly languor, through 
weeks of agony, that was not less agony because silently 
borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he looked into his 
open grave. What blight and ruin met his anguished eyes, 

10 whose lips may tell — what brilliant, broken plans, what 
baffled, high ambitions, what sundering of strong, warm, 
manhood's friendships, what bitter rending of sweet house- 
hold ties ! Behind him a proud, expectant nation, a great 
host of sustaining friends, a cherished and happy mother, 

1 5 wearing the full, rich honors of her early toil and tears ; the 
wife of his youth, whose whole life lay in his ; the little boys 
not yet emerged from childhood's day of frolic ; the fair 
young daughter ; the sturdy sons just springing into closest 
companionship, claiming every day and every day rewarding 

20 a father's love and care ; and in his heart the eager, rejoic- 
ing power to meet all demand. Before him, desolation and 
great darkness ! And his soul was not shaken. His coun- 
trymen were thrilled with instant, profound and universal 
sympathy. Masterful in his mortal weakness, he became 

25 the centre of a nation's love, enshrined in the prayers of 
a world. But all the love and all the sympathy could not 
share with him his suffering. He trod the wine press alone. 
With unfaltering front he faced death. With unfailing ten- 
derness he took leave of life. Above the demoniac hiss of 

30 the assassin's bullet he heard the voice of God. With 
simple resignation he bowed to the Divine decree. 

As the end drew near, his early craving for the sea re- 
turned. The stately mansion of power had been to him the 
wearisome hospital of pain, and he begged to be taken from 

35 its prison walls, from its oppressive, stifling air, from its 
homelessness and its hopelessness. Gently, silently, the 



156 The Eulogy. 

love of a great people bore the pale sufferer to the longed-for 
healing of the sea, to live or die, as God should will, within 
sight of its heaving billows, within sound of its manifold 
voices. With wan, fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling 
breeze, he looked out wistfully upon the ocean's changing 
wonders ; on its far sails, whitening in the morning light ; on 
its restless waves, rolling shoreward to break and die be- 
neath the noonday sun ; on the red clouds of evening, arch- 
ing low to the horizon ; on the serene and shining pathway 
of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes read a mystic 10 
meaning which only the rapt and parting soul may know. 
Let us believe that in the silence of the receding world he 
heard the great waves breaking on a further shore, and felt al- 
ready upon his wasted brow the breath of the eternal morning. 



I 



III. 

WENDELL PHILLIPS. 

Toussaint POuverture.^ 

A lecture delivered in New York and Boston in December, 1861. 

Ladies and Gentlemen: I have been requested to offer 15 
you a sketch made some years since, of one of the most re- 
markable men of the last generation, — the great St. Do- 
mingo chief, Toussaint I'Ouverture, an unmixed negro, with 
no drop of white blood in his veins. My sketch is at once a 
biography and an argument, — a biography, of course very 20 
brief, of a negro soldier and statesman, which I offer you as 
an argument in behalf of the race from which he sprung. I 
am about to compare and weigh races ; indeed I am engaged 
to-night in what you will think the absurd effort to convince 
you that the negro race, instead of being that object of pity 25 



* 



1 Reprinted by permission of Lee & Shepard from Speeches, Lee- 
tu7'es and Letters, Wendell Phillips, First Series. 



% 



Wendell Phillips. 157 

or contempt which we usually consider it, is entitled, judged 
by the facts of history, to a place close by the side of the 
Saxon. Now races love to be judged in two ways — by the 
great men they produce and by the average merit of the 
e mass of the race. We Saxons are proud of Bacon, Shake- 
speare, Hampden, Washington, Franklin, the stars we have 
lent to the galaxy of history ; and then we turn with equal 
pride to the average merit of Saxon blood, since it streamed 
from its German home. So, again, there are three tests by 

10 which races love to be tried. The first, the basis of all, is 
courage, — the element which says, here and to-day, " This 
continent is mine, from the Lakes to the Gulf : let him be- 
ware who seeks to divide it ! " [Cheers.] And the second 
is the recognition that force is doubled by purpose ; liberty 

15 regulated by law is the secret of Saxon progress. And the 
third element is persistency, endurance ; first a purpose, 
then death or success. Of these three elements is made 
that Saxon pluck which has placed our race in the van of 
modern civilization. 

20 In the hour you lend me to-night, I attempt the Quixotic 
effort to convince you that the negro blood, instead of stand- 
ing at the bottom of the list, is entitled, if judged either by 
its great men or its masses, either by its courage, its purpose, 
or its endurance, to a place as near ours as any other blood 

25 known in history. And, for the purpose of my argument, 
I take an island, St. Domingo, about the size of South Caro- 
lina, the third spot in America upon which Columbus placed 
his foot. Charmed by the magnificence of its scenery and 
fertility of its soil, he gave it the fondest of all names, His- 

30 paniola. Little Spain. His successor, more pious, rebaptized 
it from St. Dominic, St. Domingo ; and when the blacks, in 
1803, drove our white blood from its surface, they drove our 
names with us, and began the year 1804 under the old name, 
Hayti, the land of mountains. It was originally tenanted by 

35 filibusters, French and Spanish, of the early commercial 
epochs, the pirates of that day as of ours. The Spanish took 



158 The Eulogy. 

the eastern two-thirds, the French the western third of the 
island, and they gradually settled into colonies. The French, 
to whom my story belongs, became the pet colony of the 
mother land. Guarded by peculiar privileges, enriched by 
the scions of wealthy houses, aided by the unmatched fertil- 5 
ity of the soil, it soon was the richest gem in the Bourbon 
crown; and at the period to which I call your attention, 
about the era of our Constitution, 1789, its wealth was almost 
incredible. The effeminacy of the white race rivalled that 
of the Sybarite of antiquity, while the splendour of their pri- 10 
vate life outshone Versailles, and their luxury found no mate 
but in the mad prodigality of the Caesars. At this time the 
island held about thirty thousand Avhites, twenty or thirty 
thousand mulattoes, and five hundred thousand slaves. The 
slave trade was active. About twenty -five thousand slaves 15 
were imported annually ; and this only sufficed to fill the gap 
which the murderous culture of sugar annually produced. 
The mulattoes, as with us, were children of the slaveholders? 
but, uniike us, the French slaveholder never forgot his child 
by a bondswoman. He gave him everything but his name, — 20 
wealth, rich plantations, gangs of slaves ; sent him to Paris 
for his education, summoned the best culture of France for 
the instruction of his daughters, so that in 1790 the mulatto 
race held one-third of the real estate and one-quarter of the 
personal estate of the island. But though educated and rich, 25 
he bowed under the same yoke as with us. Subjected to 
special taxes, he could hold no public office, and, if convicted 
of any crime, was punished with double severity. His son 
might not sit on the same seat at school with a white boy ; 
he might not enter a church where a white man was worship- 30 
ping ; if he reached a town on horseback, he must dismount 
and lead his horse by the bridle ; and when he died, even 
his dust could not rest in the same soil with a white body. 
Such was the white race and the mulatto, — the thin film of 
a civilization beneath which surged the dark mass of five 35 
hundred thousand slaves. 



Wendell Phillips. 159 

It was over such a population, — the white man melted in 
sensuality ; the mulatto feeling all the more keenly his degra- 
dation from the very wealth and culture he enjoyed ; the slave, 
sullen and indifferent, heeding not the quarrels or the changes 
5 of the upper air, — it was over this population that there 
burst, in 1789, the thunder-storm of the French Revolution. 
The first words which reached the island were the motto of 
the Jacobin Club, — "Liberty, Equality." The white man 
heard them aghast. He had read of the streets of Paris run- 

10 ning blood. The slave heard them with indifference ; it was 
a quarrel in the upper air, between other races, which did 
not concern him. The mulatto heard them with a welcome 
which no dread of other classes could quell. Hastily gathered 
into conventions, they sent to Paris a committee of the whole 

15 body, laid at the feet of the National Convention the free 
gift of six millions of francs, pledged one-fifth of their annual 
rental toward the payment of the national debt, and only 
asked in return that this yoke of civil and social contempt 
should be lifted from their shoulders. 

20 You may easily imagine the temper in which Mirabeau 
and Lafayette welcomed this munificent gift of the free mu- 
lattoes of the West Indies, and in which the petition for equal 
civil rights was received by a body which had just resolved 
that all men were equal. The Convention hastened to ex- 

25 press its gratitude, and issued a decree which commences 
thus : " All freeborn French citizens are equal before the 
law." Oge was selected — the friend of Lafayette, a lieuten- 
ant-colonel in the Dutch service, the son of a wealthy mulatto 
woman, educated in Paris, the comrade of all the leading 

30 French Republicans — to carry the decree and the message 
of French Democracy to the island. He landed. The decree 
of the National Convention was laid on the table of the Gen- 
eral Assembly of the island. One old planter seized it, tore 
it in fragments, and trampled it under his feet, swearing by all 

35 the saints in the calendar that the island might sink before 
they would share their rights with bastards. They took an 



i6o The Eulogy. 

old mulatto, worth a million, who had simply asked for his 
rights under that decree, and hung him. A white lawyer of 
seventy, who drafted the petition, they hung at his side. 
They took Oge, broke him on the wheel, ordered him to be 
drawn and quartered, and one quarter of his body to be i^ 
hung up in each of the four principal cities of the island ; 
and then they adjourned. 

You can conceive better than I can describe the mood in 
which Mirabeau and Danton received the news that their 
decree had been torn in pieces and trampled under foot by lo 
the petty legislature of an island colony and their comrade 
drawn and quartered by the orders of its Governor. Robes- 
pierre rushed to the tribune and shouted, " Perish the 
colonies rather than sacrifice one iota of our principles 1 " 
The Convention reaffirmed their decree and sent it out a 15 
second time to be executed. 

But it was not then as now, when steam has married the 
continents. It took months to communicate ; and while this 
news of the death of Oge and the defiance of the National 
Convention was going to France, and the answer returning, 20 
great events had taken place in the island itself. The 
Spanish, or the eastern section, perceiving these divisions, 
invaded the towns of the western, and conquered many of 
its cities. One-half of the slaveholders were Republicans, 
in love with the. new constellation which had just gone up in 25 
our Northern sky, seeking to be admitted a State in this 
Republic, plotting for annexation. The other half were 
Loyalists, anxious, deserted as they supposed themselves by 
the Bourbons, to make alliance with George III. They sent 
to Jamaica, and entreated its Governor to assist them in 30 
their intrigue. At first, he lent them only a few hundred 
soldiers. Some time later. General Howe and Admiral 
Parker were sent with several thousand men, and finally, 
the English government entering more seriously into the 
plot. General Maitland landed with four thousand English- 35 
men on the north side of the island, and gained many 



Wendell Phillips. i6i 

successes. The mulattoes were in the mountains, awaiting 
events. They distrusted the government, which a few years 
before they had assisted to put down an insurrection of the 
whites, and which had forfeited its promise to grant them 
5 civil privileges. Deserted by both sections, Blanchelande, 
the Governor, had left the capital and fled for refuge to a 
neighboring cit}-. 

In this state of affairs, the second decree reached the 
island. The whites forgot their quarrel, sought out Blanche- 

lo lande, and obliged him to promise that he never would 
publish the decree. Affrighted, the Governor consented to 
that course, and they left him. He then began to reflect 
that in realitj' he was deposed, that the Bourbons had lost 
the sceptre of the island. He remembered his successful 

15 appeal to the mulattoes, five years before, to put dovm an 
insurrection. Deserted now by the whites and by the 
mulattoes, only one force was left him in the island, — that 
was the blacks : they had always remembered with gratitude 
the coi/s noir, black code, of Louis XIV., the first interference 

20 of any power in their behalf. To the blacks Blanchelande 
appealed. He sent a deputation to the slaves. He was 
aided by the agents of Comte d'Artois, afterwards Charles 
X., who was seeking to do in St. Domingo what Charles II. 
did in Virginia, (whence its name of Old Dominion.) 

r5 instiuite a reaction against the rebellion at home. The two 
joined forces, and sent first to Toussaint. Nature made him 
a Mettemich, a diplomatist. He probably wished to avail 
himself of this offer, foreseeing advantage to his race, but to 
avail himself of it so cautiously as to provide against failure, 

30 risking as httle as possible till the intentions of the other 
party had been tested, and so managing as to be able to go 
on or withdraw as the best interest of his race demanded. 
He had practised well the Greek rule, '' Know thyself," and 
thoroughly studied his own part. Later in life, when criticis- 

35 ing his great mulatto rival, Rigaud, he showed how well he 
knew himself. " I know Rigaud," he said, *^ he drops the 



1 62 The Eulogy. 

bridle when he gallops, he shows his arm when he strikes. 
For me, I gallop also, but know where to stop : when I 
strike I am felt, not seen. Rigaud works only by blood and 
massacre. I know how to put the people in movement: but 
when I appear, all must he calm." ^ 

He said, therefore, to the envoys, " Where are your 
credentials ? " "We have none." " I will have nothing to 
do with you." They then sought Franfois and Biassou, two 
other slaves of strong passions, considerable intellect, and 
great influence over their fellow-slaves, and said, "Arm, lo 
assist the government, put down the English on the one 
hand, and the Spanish on the other;" and on the 21st of 
August, 1791, fifteen thousand blacks, led by Fran9ois and 
Biassou, supplied with arms from the arsenal of the govern- 
ment, appeared in the midst of the colony. It is believed 15 
that Toussaint, unwilling himself to head the movement, was 
still desirous that it should go forward, trusting, as proved 
the case, that it would result in benefit to his race. He is 
supposed to have advised Fran9ois in his course, — saving 
himself for a more momentous hour. 20 

This is what Edward Everett calls the Insurrection of St. 
Domingo. It bore for its motto on one side of its banner, 
" Long live the King ; " and on the other, " We claim the 
Old Laws." Singular mottoes for a rebellion ! In fact it was 
the posse coinitatus ; it was the only French army on the 25 
island ; it was the only force that had a right to bear arms ; 
and what it undertook, it achieved. It put Blanchelande in 
his seat ; it put the island beneath his rule. When it was 
done, the blacks said to the Governor they had created, 
" Now, grant us one day in seven ; give us one day's labor ; 30 
we will buy another, and with the two buy a third," — the 
favorite method of emancipation at that time. Like the 
Blanchelande of five years before, he refused. He said, 
" Disarm, disperse ! " and the blacks answered, " The right 
hand that has saved you, the right hand that has saved the 35 
island for the Bourbons, may perchance clutch some of our 



Wendell Phillips. 163 

own rights ; " and they stood still. [Cheering.] This is the 
first insurrection, if any such there were in San Domingo, — 
the first determined purpose on the part of the negro, having 
saved the government, to save himself. 
5 Now let me stop a moment to remind you of one thing. I 
am about to open to you a chapter of bloody history, — no 
doubt of it. Who set the example ? Who dug up from its 
grave of a hundred years the hideous punishment of the 
wheel, and broke Oge, every bone, a living man ? Who 

10 flared in the face of indignant and astonished Europe the 
forgotten barbarity of quartering the yet palpitating body ? 
Our race. And if the black man learned the lesson but too 
Avell, it does not lie in our lips to complain. During this 
whole struggle, the record is, — written, mark you, by the 

15 white man, — the whole picture from the pencil of the white 
race, — that for one life the negro took in battle, in hot and 
bloody fight, the white race took, in the cool malignity of 
revenge, three to answer for it. Notice, also, that up to this 
moment the slave had taken no part in the struggle, except 

20 at the bidding of the government ; and even then, not for 
himself, but only to sustain the laws. 

At this moment, then, the island stands thus : The Span- 
iard is on the east, triumphant ; the Englishman is on the 
northwest, entrenched ; the mulattoes are in the mountains, 

25 waiting ; the blacks are in the valleys, victorious ; one-half 
the French slaveholding element is republican, the other 
half royalist ; the white race against the mulatto and the 
black; the black against both; the Frenchman against the 
English and Spaniard ; the Spaniard against both. It is a 

30 war of races and a war of nations. At such a moment 
Toussaint I'Ouverture appeared. 

He had been born a slave on a plantation in the north of 
the island, — an unmixed negro, — his father stolen from 
Africa. If anything, therefore, that I say of him to-night 

35 moves your admiration, remember, the black race claims it 
all, — we have no part nor lot in it. He was fifty years old 



164 The Eulogy. 

at this time. An old negro had taught him to read. His 
favorite books were Epictetus, Raynal, Military Memoirs, 
Plutarch. In the woods he learned some of the qualities of 
herbs, and was village doctor. On the estate, the highest 
place he ever reached was that of coachman. At fifty, he 5 
joined the army as physician. Before he went, he placed 
his master and mistress on ship-board, freighted the vessel 
with a cargo of sugar and coffee, and sent them to Baltimore, 
and never afterwards did he forget to send them, year by 
year, ample means of support. And I might add, that of all 10 
the leading negro generals, each one saved the man under 
whose roof he was born, and protected the family. [Cheering.] 

Let me add another thing. If I stood here to-night to tell 
the story of Napoleon, I should take it from the lips of 
Frenchmen, who find no language rich enough to paint the 15 
great captain of the nineteenth century. Were I here to tell 
you the story of Washington, I should take it from your 
hearts, — you, who think no marble white enough on which 
to carve the name of the Father of his Country. [Applause.] 
I am about to tell you the story of a negro who has left 20 
hardly one written line. I am to glean it from the reluctant 
testimony of Britons, Frenchmen, Spaniards, — men who 
despised him as a negro and a slave, and hated him because 
he had beaten them in many a battle. All the materials for 
his biography are from the lips of his enemies. 25 

The second story told of him is this. About the time he 
reached the camp, the army had been subjected to two in- 
suits. First, their commissioners, summoned to meet the 
French Committee were ignominiously and insultingly dis- 
missed ; and when, afterwards, Fran9ois, their general, was 30 
summoned to a second conference, and went to it on 
horseback, accompanied by two officers, a young lieutenant, 
who had known him as a slave, angered at seeing him 
in the uniform of an officer raised his riding-whip and 
struck him over the shoulders. If he had been the 35 
savage which the negro is painted to us, he had only to 



Wendell Phillips. 165 

breathe the insult to his t^venty-five tliousand soldiers, and 
they would have trodden out the Frenchman in blood. 
But the indignant chief rode back in silence to his tent, and 
it was twenty-four hours before his troops heard of this insult 
5 to their general. Then the word went forth, " Death to 
every white man ! '" They had fifteen hundred prisoners. 
Ranged in front of the camp, they were about to be shot. 
Toussaint, who had a vein of religious fanaticism, like 
most great leaders, — like Mahommed, like Napoleon, like 

10 Cromwell, like John Brown [cheers], — he could preach as 
well as fight, — mounting a hillock, and getting the ear of the 
crowd, exclaimed : " Brothers, this blood will not wipe out 
the insult to our chief ; only the blood in yonder French 
camp can wipe it out. To shed that is courage ; to shed 

15 this is cowardice and cruelty besides ; ' ' — and he saved fifteen 
hundred lives. [Applause.] 

I cannot stop to give in detail every one of his efforts. 
This was in 1793. Leap with me over seven years ; come 
to 1800 ; what has he achieved ? He has driven the Span- 

20 iard back into his own cities, conquered him there, and put 
the French banner over eveiy Spanish town ; and for the 
first time, and almost the last, the island obeys one law. 
He has put the mulatto under his feet. He has attacked 
Maitland, defeated him in pitched battles, and permitted 

25 him to retreat to Jamaica ; and when the French army rose 
upon Laveaux, their general, and put him into chains, 
Toussaint defeated them, took Laveaux out of prison, and 
put him at the head of his own troops. The grateful French 
in return named him General-in-Chief. Cet ho mine fait 

30 r onrerturc partout. said one, — " This man makes an open- 
ins evervwhere," — hence his soldiers named him L' Ouver- 
ture, the opening. 

This was the work of seven years. Let us pause a 
moment, and find something to measure him by. You 

35 remember INIacaulay says, comparing Cromwell with Napo- 
leon, that Cromwell showed the greater militan,^ genius, if 



1 66 The Eulogy. 

we consider that lie never saw an army till he was forty ; 
while Napoleon was educated from a boy in the best military 
schools in Europe. Cromwell manufactured his own army ; 
Napoleon at the age of twenty-seven was placed at the head 
of the best troops Europe ever saw. They were both sue- 5 
cessful ; but, says Macaulay, with such disadvantages, the 
Englishman showed the greater genius. Whether you allow 
the inference or not, you will at least grant that it is a fair 
mode of measurement. Apply it to Toussaint. Cromwell 
never saw an army till he was forty; this man never saw a 10 
soldier till he was fifty. Cromwell manufactured his own 
army — out of what? Englishmen, — the best blood in 
Europe. Out of the middle class of Englishmen, — the best 
blood of the island. And with it he conquered what ? 
Englishmen, — their equals. This man manufactured his 15 
army out of what? Out of what you call the despicable 
race of negroes, debased, demoralized by two hundred years 
of slavery, one hundred thousand of them imported into the 
island v/ithin four years, unable to speak a dialect intelligible 
even to each other. Yet out of this mixed, and, as you say, 20 
despicable mass, he forged a thunderbolt and hurled it at 
what ? At the proudest blood in Europe, the Spaniard, 
and sent him home conquered [cheers] ; at the most warlike 
blood in Europe, the French, and put them under his feet ; 
at the pluckiest blood in Europe, the English, and they 25 
skulked home to Jamaica. [Applause.] Now if Cromwell 
was a general, at least this man was a soldier. I know it 
was a small territory ; it was not as large as the continent ; 
but it was as large as that Attica, which, with Athens for a 
capital, has filled the earth with its fame for two thousand 30 
years. We measure genius by quality, not by quantity. 

Further, — Cromwell was only a soldier ; his fame stops 
there. Not one line in the statute book of Britain can be 
traced to Cromwell ; not one step in the social life of Eng- 
land finds its motive power in his brain. The state he 35 
founded went down with him to his grave. But this man no 



Wendell Phillips. 167 

sooner put his hand on the helm of State, than the ship 
steadied with an upright keel, and he began to evince a 
statesmanship as marvellous as his military genius. History- 
says that the most statesmanlike act of Napoleon was his 
5 proclamation of 1802, at the peace of Amiens, when, believ- 
ing that the indelible loyalty of a native-born heart is always 
a sufficient basis on which to found an empire, he said : 
" Frenchmen come home. I pardon the crimes of the last 
twelve years ; I blot out its parties ; I found my throne on 

10 the hearts of all Frenchmen ; " — and twelve years of un- 
clouded success showed how wisely he judged. That was in 
1802. In 1800 this negro made a proclamation; it runs 
thus: "Sons of St. Domingo, come home. We never 
meant to take your houses or your lands. The negro only 

15 asked that liberty which God gave him. Your houses wait 
for you ; your lands are ready ; come and cultivate them ; " 
and from Madrid and Paris, from Baltimore and New 
Orleans, the emigrant planters crowded home to enjoy their 
estates, under the pledged word that was never broken 

20 of a victorious slave. [Cheers.] 

Again, Carlyle has said, " The natural king is one who 
melts all v\-ills into his own. " At this moment he turned to 
his armies, — poor, ill-clad and half-starved, — - and said to 
them: "Go back and work on those estates you have con- 

25 quered ; for an empire can be founded only on order and 

industry, and you can learn these virtues only there." And 

they went. The French Admiral, who witnessed the scene, 

said that in a week his army melted back into peasants. 

It was 1800. The world waited fifty years before, in 

30 1846, Robert Peel dared to venture, as a matter of practical 
statesmanship, the theory of free trade. Adam Smith theo- 
rized, the French statesmen dreamed, but no man at the 
head of affairs had ever dared to risk it as a practical 
measure. Europe waited till 1846 before the most practical 

35 intellect in the world, the English, adopted the great economic 
formula of unfettered trade. But in 1800 this black, with 



1 68 The Eulogy. 

the instinct of statesmanship, said to the committee who 
were drafting for him a Constitution: "Put at the head of 
the chapter of commerce that the ports of St. Domingo are 
open to the trade of the world." [Cheers.] With lofty in- 
difference to race, superior to all envy or prejudice, Tous- 5 
saint had formed this committee of eight white proprie- 
tors and one mulatto — not a soldier or a negro on the list, 
although Haytien history proves that, with the exception of 
Rigaud, the rarest genius has always been shown by pure 
negroes. 10 

Again, it was 1800, at the time when England was poi- 
soned on every page of her statute-book with religious 
intolerance, when a man could not enter the House of Com- 
mons without taking an Episcopal communion, when every 
state in the Union, except Rhode Island, was full of the 15 
intensest religious bigotry. This man was a negro. You 
say that is a superstitious blood. He was uneducated. You 
say that makes a man narrow-minded. He was a Catholic. 
Many say that is but another name for intolerance. And 
yet — negro, Catholic, slave — he took his place by the side 2o| 
of Roger Williams, and said to his committee : " Make it the 
first line of my Constitution that I know no difference be- 
tween religious beliefs." [Applause.] 

Now, blue-eyed Saxon, proud of your race, go back with 
me to the commencement of the century, and select what 25 
statesman you please. Let him be either American or 
European ; let him have a brain the result of six generations 
of culture; let him have the ripest training of university 
routine; let him add to it the better education of practical 
life ; crown his temples with the silver of seventy years ; and 30 
show me the man of Saxon lineage for whom his most san- 
guine admirer will wreathe a laurel rich as embittered foes 
have placed on the brow of this negro, — rare military skill, 
profound knowledge of human nature, content to blot out all 
party distinctions, and trust a state to the blood of its sons, 35 
— - anticipating Sir Robert Peel fifty years, and taking his sta- 



Wendell Phillips. 169 

tion by the side of Roger Williams before any Englishman 
or American had won the right ; and yet this is the record 
which the history of rival states makes up for this inspired 
black of St. Domingo. [ Cheers.] 
5 It was 1 80 1. The Frenchmen who lingered on the island 
described its prosperity and order as almost incredible. You 
might trust a child with a bag of gold to go from Samana to 
Port-au-Prince without risk. Peace was in every house- 
hold ; the valleys laughed with fertility ; culture climbed the 

10 mountains ; the commerce of the world was represented in 
its harbors. At this time Europe concluded the Peace of 
Amiens, and Napoleon took his seat on the throne of France. 
He glanced his eyes across the Atlantic, and, with a single 
stroke of his pen, reduced Cayenne and Martinique back 

15 into chains. He then said to his Council, " What shall I do 
with St. Domingo? The slaveholders said, "Give it to us." 
Napoleon turned to the Abbe Gregoire, " What is your 
opinion ? " "I think those men would change their opinions, 
if they changed their skins." Colonel Vincent, who had been 

20 private secretary to Toussaint, wrote a letter to Napoleon, 
in which he said: "Sire, leave it alone ; it is the happiest 
spot in your dominions ; God raised this man to govern ; 
races melt under his hand. He has saved you this island ; 
for I know of my own knowledge that, when the Republic 

25 could not have lifted one finger to prevent it, George III. 
offered him any title and any revenue if he would hold the 
island under the British crown. He refused, and saved it 
for France." Napoleon turned away from his Council, and 
is said to have remarked, " I- have sixty thousand idle 

30 troops; I must find them something to do." He meant to 
say, " I am about to seize the crown ; I dare not do it in the 
faces of sixty thousand republican soldiers : I must give them 
work at a distance to do." The gossip of Paris gives another 
reason for his expedition against St. Domingo. It is said 

35 that the satirists of Paris had christened Toussaint, the Black 
Napoleon ; and Napoleon hated his black shadow. Tous- 



170 The Eulogy. 

saint had unfortunately once addressed him a letter, " The 
first of the blacks to the first of the whites." He did not 
like the comparison. You would think it too slight a mo- 
tive. But let me remind you of the present Napoleon, that 
when the epigrammatists of Paris christened his wasteful and 5 
tasteless expense at Versailles, Soulouquerie, from the name 
of Soulouque, the Black Emperor, he deigned to issue a 
specific order forbidding the use of the word. The Napo- 
leon blood is very sensitive. So Napoleon resolved to crush 
Toussaint from one motive or another, from the prompting 10 B 
of ambition, or dislike of this resemblance, — which was 
very close. If either imitated the other, it must have been 
the white, since the negro preceded him several years. They 
were very much alike, and they were very French, — French 
even in vanity, common to both. You remember Bonaparte's 15 
vainglorious words to his soldiers at the Pyramids : " Forty 
centuries look down upon us." In the same mood Toussaint 
said to the French captain who urged him to go to France 
in his frigate, " Sir, your ship is not large enough to carry 
me." Napoleon, you know, could never bear the military 20 
uniform. He hated the restraint of his rank; he loved to 
put on the gray coat of the Little Corporal, and wander in 
the camp. Toussaint also never could bear a uniform. He 
wore a plain coat, and often the yellow Madras handkerchief 
of the slaves. A French lieutenant once called him a mag- 25 
got in a yellow handkerchief. Toussaint took him prisoner 
next day, and sent him home to his mother. Like Napoleon, 
he could fast many days ; could dictate to three secretaries 
at once ; could wear out four or five horses. Like Napoleon, 
no man ever divined his purpose or penetrated his plan. 30 
He was only a negro, and so, in him, they called it hypocrisy. 
In Bonaparte we style it diplomacy. For instance, three 
attempts made to assassinate him all failed, from not firing 
at the right spot. If they thought he was in the north in a 
carriage, he would be in the south on horseback ; if they 35 
thought he was in the city in a house, he would be in the 



I 

I 



Wendell Phillips. 171 

field in a tent. They once riddled his carriage with bullets ; 
he was on horseback on the other side. The seven French- 
men who did it were arrested. They expected to be shot. 
The next day was some saint's day ; he ordered them to be 
5 placed before the high altar, and, when the priest reached 
the prayer for forgiveness, came down from his high seat, 
repeated it with him, and permitted them to go unpunished. 
[Cheers.] He had that wit common to all great commanders, 
which makes its way in a camp. His soldiers getting dis- 

10 heartened, he filled a large vase with powder, and, scattering 
six grains of rice in it, shook them up, and said : " See, 
there is the white, there is the black ; what are you afraid 
of ? " So when people came to him in great numbers for 
office, as it is reported they do sometimes even in Washing- 

15 ton, he learned the first words of a Catholic prayer in Latin, 
and, repeating it, would say, " Do you understand that ? " 
"No, sir." " What ! want an office and not know Latin ? Go 
home and learn it !" 

Then, again, like Napoleon, — like genius always, — he 

20 had confidence in his power to rule men. You remember 
when Bonaparte returned from Elba, and Louis XVIII. sent 
an army against him, Bonaparte descended from his carriage, 
opened his coat, offering his breast to their muskets, and 
saying, " Frenchmen, it is the Emperor ! " and they ranged 

25 themselves behind him, his soldiers, shouting " Vive VEm- 
pereur f'' That was in 18 15. Twelve years before, Tous- 
saint, finding that four of his regiments had deserted and 
gone to Leclerc, drew his sword, flung it on the grass, went 
across the field to them, and said, " Children, can you point 

30 a bayonet at me ? " The blacks fell on their knees, praying 
his pardon. His bitterest enemies watched him, and none 
of them charged him with love of money, sensuality or cruel 
use of power. The only instance in which his sternest critic 
has charged him with severity is this. During a tumult, a 

35 few white proprietors who had returned, trusting his procla- 
mation, were killed. His nephew. General Moise, was ac- 



172 The Eulogy. 

cused of indecision in quelling the riot. He assembled a 
court-martial, and, on its verdict, ordered his own nephew to 
be shot, sternly Roman in thus keeping his promise of pro- 
tection to the whites. Above the lust of gold, pure in pri- 
vate life, generous in the use of his power, it was against 5 
such a man that Napoleon sent his army, giving to General 
Leclerc, the husband of his beautiful sister Pauline, thirty 
thousand of his best troops, with orders to reintroduce 
slavery. Among these soldiers came all of Toussaint's old 
mulatto rivals and foes. 10 

Holland lent sixty ships. England promised by special 
message to be neutral ; and you know neutrality means 
sneering at freedom, and sending arms to tyrants, [Loud 
and long-continued applause.] England promised neutrality, 
and the black looked out on the whole civilized world 15 
marshalled against him. America, full of slaves, of course 
was hostile. Only the Yankee sold him poor muskets at a 
very high price. [Laughter.] Mounting his horse, and 
riding to the eastern end of the island, Samana, he looked 
out on a sight such as no native had ever seen before. 20 
Sixty ships of the line, crowded by the best soldiers of 
Europe, rounded the point. They were soldiers who had 
never yet met an equal, whose tread, like Caesar's, had 
shaken Europe, — soldiers who had scaled the pyramids, 
and planted the French banners on the walls of Rome. He 25 
looked a moment, counted the flotilla, let the reins fall on 
the neck of his horse, and turning to Christophe, exclaimed : 
"All France is come to Hayti; they can only come to make 
us slaves ; and we are lost ! " He then recognized the only 
mistake of his life, — his confidence in Bonaparte, which had 30 
led him to disband his army. 

Returning to the hills, he issued the only proclamation 
which bears his name and breathes vengeance ; " My chil- 
dren, France comes to make us slaves. God gave us lib- 
erty ; France has no right to take it away. Burn the cities, 35 
destroy the harvests, tear up the roads with cannon, poison 



^ 



Wendell Phillips. 173 

the wells, show the white man the hell he comes to make; " 
and he was obeyed. [xA^pplause.] When the great WilHam 
of Orange saw Louis XIV. cover Holland w^th troops, he 
said, " Break down the dykes, give Holland back to ocean ;" 
5 and Europe said '-Sublime!" When Alexander saw the 
armies of France descend upon Russia, he said, "Burn 
Moscow, starve back the invaders ; " and Europe said 
" Sublime ! " This black saw all Europe marshaUed to 
crush him and gave to his people the same heroic example 

10 of defiance. 

It is true the scene grows bloodier as we proceed. But, 
remember, the white man fitly accompanied his infamous 
attempt to reduce freenieii to slavery with every bloody and 
cruel device that bitter and shameless hate could invent, 

15 Aristocracy is always cruel. The black man met the 
attempt, as every such attempt should be met, with war to 
the hilt. In his first struggle to gain his freedom, he had 
been generous and merciful, saved lives and pardoned ene- 
mies, as the people in every age and clime have always 

20 done when rising against aristocrats. Now, to save his 
liberty, the negro exhausted every means, seized every 
weapon, and turned back the hateful invaders with a 
vengeance as terrible as their own, though even now he 
refused to be cruel. 

25 Leclerc sent word to Christophe that he was about to land 
at Cape City. Christophe said, " Toussaint is governor of 
the island. I will send to him for permission. If without it 
a French soldier sets foot on shore, I will burn the towm, 
and fight over its ashes." 

30 Leclerc landed. Christophe took two thousand white men, 
women, and children, and carried them to the mountains 
in safety, then with his own hands set fire to the splendid 
palace which French architects had just finished for him, 
and in iox\?j hours the place was in ashes. The battle was 

35 fought in its streets and the French driven back to their 
boats. [Cheers.] Wherever they went they were met with 



174 The Eulogy. 



fire and sword. Once, resisting an attack, the blacks, 
Frenchmen born, shouted the Marseilles hymn, and the 
French soldiers stood still; they could not fight the Mar- 
seillaise. And it was not till their officers sabred them on 
that they advanced, and then they were beaten. Beaten in 5 
the field, the French then took to lies. They issued procla- 
mations, saying, " We do not come to make you slaves ; this 
man Toussaint tells you lies. Join us, and you shall have 
the rights you claim." They cheated every one of his offi- 
cers, except Christophe and Dessalines, and his own brother 10 
Pierre, and finally these also deserted him, and he was left 
alone. He then sent word to Leclerc, " I will submit. I 
could continue the struggle for years, — could prevent a 
single Frenchman from safely quitting your camp. But I 
hate bloodshed. I have fought only for the liberty of my 15 
race. Guarantee that, I will submit and come in." He 
took the oath to be a faithful citizen ; and on the same 
crucifix Leclerc swore that he should be faithfully protected 
and that the island should be free. As the French general 
glanced along the line of his splendidly equipped troops, and 20 
saw, opposite, Toussaint's ragged, ill-armed followers he said 
to him, " L'Ouverture, had you continued the war, where 
could you have got arms ? " ''I would have taken yours," 
was the Spartan reply. [Cheers.] He went down to his 
house in peace ; it was summer. Leclerc remembered that 25 
the fever months were coming, when his army would be in 
hospitals, and when one motion of that royal hand would 
sweep his troops into the sea. He was too dangerous to be 
left at large. So they summoned him to attend a council ; 
and here is the only charge made against him, — the only 30 
charge. They say he was fool enough to go. Grant it; 
what was the record? The white man lies shrewdly to 
cheat the negro. Knight errantry was truth. The foulest 
insult you can offer a man since the Crusades is, You He. 
Of Toussaint, Hermona, the Spanish general, who knew him 35 
well, said, " He was the purest soul God ever put into a 



Wendell Phillips. 175 

body. Of him history bears witness, " He never broke his 
word." Maitland was travelling in the depths of the woods 
to meet Toussaint, when he was met by a messenger, and 
told that he was betrayed. He went on, and met Toussaint, 
5 who showed him two letters, — one from the French general, 
offering him any rank if he would put Maitland in his power, 
and the other his reply. It was, " Sir, I have promised the 
Englishman that he shall go back." [Cheers.] Let it 
stand, therefore, that the negro, trutliful as a knight of old, 

10 was cheated by his lying foe. Which race has reason to be 
proud of such a record ? 

But he was not cheated. He was under espionage. Sup- 
pose he had refused : the government would have doubted 
him, — would have found some cause to arrest him. He 

15 probably reasoned thus : " If I go willingly I shall be treated 
accordingly ; " and he went. The moment he entered the 
room, the officers drew their swords and told him he was 
prisoner; and one young lieutenant who was present says, 
" He was not at all surprised, but seemed very sad." They 

20 put him on shipboard, and weighed anchor for France. As 
the island faded from his sight, he turned to the captain, and 
said, " You think you have rooted up the tree of liberty, but 
I am only a branch ; I have planted the tree so deep that 
all France can never root it up." [Cheers.] Arrived in Paris, 

25 he was flung into jail, and Napoleon sent his secretary, Caf- 
fareUi, to him, supposing he had buried large treasures. He 
listened awhile, then replied, " Young man, it is true I have 
lost treasures, but they are not such as you come to seek." 
He was then sent to the Castle of St. Joux, to a dungeon 

30 twelve feet by twenty, built wholly of stone, with a narrow 
window, high up on the side, looking out on the snows of 
Switzerland. In winter, ice covers the floor ; in summer, it 
is damp and wet. In this living tomb the child of the sunny 
tropics was left to die. From this dungeon he wrote two 

35 letters to Napoleon. One of them ran thus : — " Sire, I am a 
French citizen, I never broke a law. By the grace of God, 



176 The Eulogy. 

I have saved for you the best island of your reahn. Sire, of 
your mercy grant me justice." 

Napoleon never answered the letters. The commandant 
allowed him five francs a day for food and fuel. Napoleon 
heard of it, and reduced the sum to three. The luxurious 5 
usurper who complained that the English government was 
stingy because it allowed him only six thousand dollars a 
month, stooped from his throne to cut down a dollar to a 
half, and still Toussaint did not die quick enough. 

This dungeon was a tomb. The story is told that, in Jo- 10 
sephine's time, a young French Marquis was placed there, 
and the girl to whom he was betrothed went to the Empress 
and prayed for his release. Said Josephine to her, " Have a 
model of it made, and bring it to me." Josephine placed it 
near Napoleon. He said, " Take it away — it is horrible ! " 15 
She put it on his footstool, and he kicked it from him. She 
held it to him for the third time, and said, " Sire in this hor- 
rible dungeon you have put a man to die." " Take him out," 
said Napoleon, and the girl saved her lover. In this tomb 
Toussaint was buried, but he did not die fast enough. Fi- 20 
nally, the commandant was told to go into Switzerland, to 
carry the keys of the dungeon with him, and to stay four 
days ; when he returned, Toussaint was found starved to 
death. That imperial assassin was taken twelve years after 
to his prison at St. Helena, planned for a tomb, as he had 25 
planned that of Toussaint, and there he whined away his 
dying hours in pitiful complaints of curtains and titles, of 
dishes and rides. God grant that when some future Plutarch 
shall weigh the great men of our epoch, the whites against 
the blacks, he do not put that whining child at St. Helena 30 
into one scale and into the other the negro meeting death 
like a Roman, without a murmur, in the solitude of his icy 
dungeon ! 

From the moment he was betrayed, the negroes began to 
doubt the French, and rushed to arms. Soon every negro 35 
but Maurepas deserted the French. Leclerc summoned 



Wendell Phillips. 177 

Maurepas to his side. He came, loyally bringing with him 
five hundred soldiers. Leclerc spiked his epaulettes to his 
shoulders, shot him, and flung him into the sea. He took 
his five hundred soldiers on shore, shot them on the edge of 
5 a pit and tumbled them in. Dessalines from the mountain 
saw it, and, selecting five hundred French officers from his 
prisons, hung them on separate trees in sight of Leclerc's 
camp ; and born, as I was, not far from Bunker Hill, I have 
yet found no reason to think he did wrong. [Cheers.] They 

10 murdered Pierre Toussaint's wife at his own door and after 
such treatment that it was mercy when they killed her. The 
maddened husband, who had but a year before saved the 
lives of twelve hundred white men, carried his next thousand 
prisoners and sacrificed them on her grave. 

15 The French exhausted every form of torture. The negroes 
were bound and thrown into the sea ; anyone who floated 
was shot, — others sunk with cannon-balls tied to their feet ; 
some smothered with sulphur fumes, — others strangled, 
scourged to death, gibbeted ; sixteen of Toussaint's officers 

20 were chained to rocks in desert islands, — others in marshes, 
and left to be devoured by poisonous reptiles and insects. 
Rochambeau sent to Cuba for bloodhounds. When they 
arrived the young girls went down to the wharf, decked the 
hounds with ribbons and flowers, kissed their necks, and, 

25 seated in the amphitheatre, the women clapped their hands to 
see a negro thrown to these dogs, previously starved to rage. 
But the negroes besieged this very city so closely that these 
same girls, in their misery, ate the very hounds they had 
welcomed. 

30 Then flashed forth that defying courage and sublime en- 
durance which show how alike all races are when tried in the 
same furnace. The Roman wife, whose husband faltered 
when Nero ordered him to kill himself, seized the dagger, 
and, mortally wounding her own body, cried, " Foetus, it is 

35 not hard to die." The world records it with proud tears. 
Just in the same spirit, when a negro colonel was ordered to 



178 The Eulogy. 



1 



execution, and trembled, his wife seized his sword, and, giv- 
ing herself a death-wound, said, " Husband, death is swe^t 
when liberty is gone." 

The war went on. Napoleon sent over thirty thousand 
more soldiers. But disaster still followed his efforts. What 5 
the sword did not devour, the fever ate up. Leclerc died. 
Pauline carried his body back to France. Napoleon met 
her at Bordeau, saying, " Sister, I gave you an army, — you 
bring me back ashes." Rochambeau — the Rochambeau of 
our history — left in command of eight thousand troops, sent 10 
word to Dessalines : " When I take you, I will not shoot you 
like a soldier, or hang you like a white man, I will whip you 
to death like a slave." Dessalines chased him from battle- 
field to battle-field, from fort to fort, and finally shut him up 
in Samana. Heating cannon balls to destroy his fleet, Des- 15 
salines learned that Rochambeau had begged of the British 
Admiral to cover his troops with the English flag, and the 
generous negro suffered the boaster to embark undisturbed. 

Some doubt the courage of the negro. Go to Hayti, and 
stand on those fifty thousand graves of the best soldiers 20 
France ever had, and ask them what they think of the negro's 
sword. And if that does not satisfy you, go to France, to 
the splendid mausoleum of the Counts of Rochambeau, and 
to the eight thousand graves of Frenchmen who skulked home 
under the English flag, and ask them. And if that does not 25 
satisfy you, come home, and if it had been October, 1859, 
you might have come by way of quaking Virginia, and asked 
her what she thought of negro courage. 

You may also remember this, — that we Saxons were 
slaves about four hundred years, sold with the land, and our 3c 
fathers never raised a finger to end that slavery. They 
waited till Christianity and civilization, till commerce and 
the discovery of America, melted away their chains. Spar- 
tacus in Italy led the slaves of Rome against the Empress of 
the world. She murdered him and crucified them. There 35 
never was a slave rebellion successful but once, and that was 



Wendell Phillips. 179 

in St. Domingo. Every race has been, some time or other, 
in chains. But there never was a race that, weakened and 
degraded by such chattel slavery, unaided, tore off its own 
fetters, forged them into swords, and won its liberty on the 

5 battle-field, but one, and that was the black race of St. Do- 
mingo. God grant that the wise vigor of our government 
may avert that necessity from our land, — may raise into 
peaceful liberty the four million committed to our care, and 
show under democratic institutions a statesmanship as far- 

10 sighted as that of England, as brave as the negro of Hayti ! 

So much for the courage of the negro. Now look at his 

endurance. In 1805 he said to the white men, " This island 

is ours ; not a white foot shall touch it." Side by side with 

him stood the South American republics, planted by the best 

15 blood of the countrymen of Lope de Vega and Cervantes. 
They topple over so often that you could no more daguerro- 
type their crumbling fragments than you could the waves of 
the ocean. And yet, at their side, the negro has kept his 
island sacredly to himself. It is said that at first, with rare 

20 patriotism, the Haytien government ordered the destruction 
of all the sugar plantations remaining, and discouraged its 
culture, deeming that the temptation which lured the French 
back again to attempt their enslavement. Burn over New 
York to-night, fill up her canals, sink every ship, destroy her 

25 railroads, blot out every remnant of education from her sons, 
let her be ignorant and penniless, with nothing but her hands 
to begin the world again, — how much could she do in sixty 
years ? And Europe, too, would lend you money, but she will 
not lend Hayti a dollar. Hayti, from the ruins of her colo- 

30 nial dependence, is become a civilized state, the seventh 
nation in the catalogue of commerce with this country, infe- 
rior in morals and education to none of the West Indian isles. 
Foreign merchants trust her courts as willingly as they do 
our own. Thus far, she has foiled the ambition of Spain, 

35 the greed of England, and the malicious statesmanship of 
Calhoun, Toussaint made her what she is. In this work 



i8o The Eulogy. 

there was grouped around him a score of men, mostly of 
pure negro blood, who ably seconded his efforts. They were 
able in war and skillful in civil affairs, but not, like him, re- 
markable for that rare mingling of high qualities which alone 
makes true greatness, and insures a man leadership among 5 
those otherwise almost his equals. Toussaint was indispu- 
tably their chief. Courage, purpose, endurance, — these are 
the tests. He did plant a state so deep that all the world 
has not been able to root it up. 

I would call him Napoleon, but Napoleon made his way to 10 
empire over broken oaths and through a sea of blood. This 
man never broke his word. " No Retaliation " was his great 
motto and the rule of his life ; and the last words uttered to m 
his son in France were these : " My boy, you will one day 
go back to St. Domingo; forget that France murdered your 15 
father." I would call him Cromwell, but Cromwell was only 
a soldier and the state he founded went down with him 
into his grave. I would call him Washington, but the great 
Virginian held slaves. This man risked his empire rather 
than permit the slave-trade in the humblest village of his 20 
dominions. 

You think me a fanatic to-night, for you read history not 
with your eyes, but with your prejudices. But fifty years 
hence, when Truth gets a hearing, the Muse of History will 
put Phocian for the Greek, and Brutus for the Roman, 25 
Hampden for England, Fayette for France, choose Wash- 
ington as the bright consummate flower of our earlier civil- 
ization, and John Brown the ripe fruit of our noonday 
[thunders of applause], then, dipping her pen in the sun- I 
light, will write in the clear blue, above them all, the name 30 
of the soldier, the statesman, the martyr, Toussaint L'Ouver- 
ture. [Long continued applause.] 



COMMEMORATION 

OF AN 

HISTORICAL OCCASION. 



No. I shows that even the speech which is usually perfunctory, 
the introduction of a speaker, may itself be made memorable. No. 
II illustrates a brief grappling, apparently extemporaneous, but very 
successful, with a difficult persuasive problem, — cf. its introductory 
material. No. Ill exemplifies the prepared address which seeks to 
emphasize some of the possible significance of the occasion in question. 
No, IV is noteworthy, especially, for its descriptive emotional passages. 



I. 

CHARLES W. ELIOT. 

Heroes of the Civil War.^ 

Sander's Theatre, Harvard University, Memorial Day, May 30, 1896. 

The personal heroism of the men we commemorate here 
— of those who survived as well as of those who fell — had 
two elements which are especially affecting and worthy of 
remembrance. 

5 In the first place, these men went through all the squalor, 
wretchedness and carnage of war without having any clear 
vision of their country's future. They did not know that 
victory was to crown the Union cause ; they did not know 
that the nation was to come out of the four years' struggle 

10 delivered from slavery, united as never before, and confident 

as never before in its resources and its stability. One of 

the worst horrors in 1860-61, before the war opened, was 

the sickening doubt whether we really had any country. 

Civil war is immeasurably worse than any other war, 

15 because it inevitably creates just this terrible doubt about 
the national future. It was not until 1864-5 that it became 
plain that the North would ultimately win military success ; 
and even then all men saw that after military success would 
come immense civil difficulties. The heroism of the soldiers 

20 on both sides, and the pathos of their suffering and sacri- 
fices, are greatly heightened by their inability to forecast the 
future. Like all devoted souls they walked by faith, and 
not by sight. Most of the men whose names are written on 
these walls died with no shout of victory in their ears, or 
5 prospect of ultimate triumph before their glazing eyes. To 

1 Reprinted by permission of Charles W. Eliot and of the Century 
Co. from American Contributions to Civilization, p. 367. 

183 



184 Commemoration. 

console them in their mortal agony, in their supreme sacrifice, 
they had nothing but their own hope and faith. 

Secondly, the service these men rendered to their country 
was absolutely disinterested. No professional interest in 
war influenced them. No pay, or prize money, or prospect 5 
of pension had the least attraction for them. They offered 
their services and lives to their country just for love, and 
out of determination that, if they could help it, the cause of 
freedom should take no harm. On the spur of the moment 
they abandoned promising civil careers, dear homes, and the 10 
natural occupations of men who had received a collegiate 
training, for the savage destructions and butcheries of war. 
No mercenary motive can be attributed to any of them. 
This disinterestedness is essential to their heroic quality. 
The world has long since determined the limits of its occa- 15 
sional respect for mercenary soldiers. It admires in such 
men only the faithful fulfilment of an immoral contract. The 
friends we commemorate here had in view no outward 
rewards near or remote. 

To these heroes of ours, and to all the soldiers of like 20 
spirit in the Civil War, we owe debts which can never be 
paid except in respect, admiration and loving remembrance. 
We owe to them the demonstration that out of the hideous 
losses and horrors of war, as out of pestilences, famines, 
shipwrecks, conflagrations, and the blastings of the tornado, 25 
noble souls can pluck glorious fruits of self-sacrifice and 
moral sublimity. And further, we owe them a great uplift- 
ing of our country in dignity, strength and security. 



I 



Phillips Brooks. 185 



II. 
PHILLIPS BROOKS. 
The Fourth of July.^ 

Westminster Abbey ^ July 4, 1880. 

["Besides preaching before the Queen at Chester Cathedral, Mr. 
Brooks preached at Westminster Abbey, dehvering his famous sermon, 
'The Candle of the Lord.' As the Sunday fell on the Fourth of July, 
many felt that the Dean had given a very difficult task to an American 
5 in asking him to preach on that day in such a place. The Dean himself 
felt some anxiety about the result. Lady Francis Baillie, a sister-in- 
lavp of Dean Stanley, has contributed an interesting incident in connec- 
tion with the occasion. After the service she slipped out into the 
deanery by the private door, and reached the drawing-room before any 

10 of the guests who were to come in from the Abbey. She found the 
Dean with tears running down his face, a most extraordinary thing for 
him; and as soon as she appeared he burst out with expressions of the 
intensest admiration, saying that he had never been so moved by any 
sermon that he could remember, and dwelling on the wonderful taste 

I ^ and feeling displayed in the passage at the end. This is the passage 
referred to, appended to the sermon in order to commemorate the day." 
— Life of Phillips Brooks, A. V. G. Allen, II, 268-69.] 

My Friends : — May I ask you to linger while I say a 
few words more which shall not be unsuited to what I have 

20 been saying, and which shall, for just a moment, recall to 
you the sacredness which this day — the Fourth of July, the 
anniversary of American Independence — has in the hearts 
of us Americans. If I dare — generously permitted as I am 
to stand this evening in the venerable Abbey, so full of our 

25 history as well as yours — to claim that our festival shall 
have some sacredness for you as well as for us, my claim 
rests on the simple truth that to all true men the birthday 
of a nation must be a sacred thing. For in oui*--modern 

1 Reprinted by permission of E. P. Dutton & Co. and Rev. A. V. G. 
Allen, from Life of Phillips Brooks, A. V. G. Allen, p. 268. 



1 86 Commemoration. 

thought the nation is the making-place of men. Not by the 
traditions of its history, nor by the splendor of its corporate 
achievements, nor by the abstract excellence of its constitu- 
tion, but by its fitness to make men, to beget and educate 
human character, to contribute to the complete humanity, 5 
the perfect man that is to be, — by this alone each nation 
must be judged to-day. The nations are the golden candle- 
sticks that hold aloft the glory of the Lord. No candlestick 
can be so rich or venerable that men shall honor it if it 
holds no candle. " Show us your man," land cries to land. 10 

In such days any nation, out of the midst of which God 
has led another nation as He led ours out of the midst of 
yours, must surely watch with anxiety and prayer the peculiar 
development of our common humanity of which that nation 
is made the home, the special burning of the human candle 15 
in that new candlestick ; and if she sees a hope and promise 
that God means to build in that land some strong and free 
and characteristic manhood, which shall help the world to 
its completeness, the mother-land will surely lose the thought 
and memory of whatever anguish accompanied the birth, for 20 
gratitude over the gain which humanity has made, " for joy 
that a man is born into the world." 

It is for me to glorify to-night the country which I love 
with all my heart and soul. I may not ask your praise for 
anything admirable which the United States has been or 25 
done. But on my country's birthday I may do something 
far more solemn and more worthy of the hour. I may ask 
for your prayers in her behalf. That on the manifold and 
wondrous chance which God is giving her ; on her freedom 
(for she is free, since the old stain of slavery was washed 30 
out of her blood) ; on her unconstrained religious life ; on 
her passion for education and her eager search for truth ; on 
her zealous care of the poor man's rights and opportunities , 
on her quiet homes where the future generations of men are 
growing ; on her manufactories and her commerce ; on her 35 
wide gates open to the East and to the West ; on her strange 



Grover Cleveland. 187 

meeting of the races out of which a new race is now being 
born ; on her vast enterprise and illimitable hopefulness, — ■ 
on all these materials and machineries of manhood, on all 
that the life of my country must mean for humanity, I may 

5 ask you to pray that the blessing of God, the Father of man, 
and Christ, the Son of man, may rest forever. 

Because you are Englishmen and I am an American ; also 
because here, under this high and hospitable roof of God, 
we are all more than Englishmen and more than Americans ; 

10 because we are all men, children of God waiting for the full 
coming of our Father's kingdom, I ask you for that prayer. 



III. 
GROVER CLEVELAND. 

Influence of Universities.^ 

Delivered at the Sesqui-Centennial of the Signing of the Charter of 
the College of New Jersey (Princeton University), Oct. 22, 1896. 

Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen : — As those in 
different occupations and with different training each see 
most plainly in the same landscape view those features which 

15 are the most nearly related to their several habitual environ- 
ments ; so, in our contemplation of an event or an occasion, 
each individual especially observes and appreciates, in the 
light his mode of thought suppHes, such of its features and 
incidents as are most in harmony with his mental situation. 

20 To-day, while all of us warmly share the general enthu- 
siasm and felicitation which pervades this assemblage, I am 
sure its various suggestions and meanings assume a promi- 
nence in our respective fields of mental vision, dependent 
upon their relation to our experience and condition. Those 

25 charged with the management and direction of the educa- 
^ Reprinted by permission of Grover Cleveland. 



i88 Commemoration. 

tional advantages of this noble institution most plainly see, 
with well-earned satisfaction, proofs of its growth and use- 
fulness and its enhanced opportunities for doing good. The 
graduate of Princeton sees first the evidence of a greater 
glory and prestige that have come to his Alma Mater and 5 
the added honor thence reflected upon himself, while those 
still within her student halls see most prominently the 
promise of an increased dignity which awaits their gradua- 
tion from Princeton University. 

But there are others here, not of the family of Princeton, 10 
who see, with an interest not to be outdone, the signs of her 
triumphs on the fields of higher education, and the part she 
has taken during her long and glorious career in the eleva- 
tion and betterment of a great people. Among these I take 
a humble place; and as I yield to the influences of this 15 
occasion, I cannot resist the train of thought which especially 
reminds me of the promise of national safety and the guaran- 
tee of the permanence of our free institutions which may and 
ought to radiate from the universities and colleges scattered 
throughout our land. 20 

Obviously a government resting upon the will and uni- 
versal suffrage of the people has no anchorage except in the 
people's intelligence. While the advantages of a collegiate 
education are by no means necessary to good citizenship, 
yet the college graduate, found everywhere, cannot smother 25 
his opportunities to teach his fellow-countrymen and influ- 
ence them for good, nor hide his talents in a napkin, without 
recreancy to a trust. 

In a nation like ours, charged with the care of numerous 
and widely varied interests, a spirit of conservatism and 30 
toleration is absolutely essential. A collegiate training, the 
study of principles unvexed by distracting and misleading 
influences, and a correct apprehension of the theories upon 
which our republic is established, ought to constitute the 
college graduate a constant monitor, warning against popular 35 
rashness and excess. 



I 



A 



Grover Cleveland. 189 

The character of our institutions and our national self- 
interest require that a feeling of sincere brotherhood and a 
disposition to unite in mutual endeavor should pervade our 
people. Our scheme of government in its beginning was 
5 based upon this sentiment, and its interruption has never 
failed and can never fail to grievously menace our national 
health. Who can better caution against passion and bitter- 
ness than those who know by thought and study their bane- 
ful consequences and who are themselves within the noble 

10 brotherhood of higher education ? 

There are natural laws and economic truths which com- 
mand implicit obedience, and which should unalterably fix 
the bounds of wholesome popular discussion and the limits 
of political strife. The knowledge gained in our universities 

1 5 and colleges would be sadly deficient if its beneficiaries were 
unable to recognize and point out to their fellow- citizens 
these truths and natural laws, and to teach the mischievous 
futility of their non-observance or attempted violation. 

The activity of our people and their restless desire to 

20 gather to themselves especial benefits and advantages lead 
to the growth of an un confessed tendency to regard their 
government as the giver of private gifts, and to look upon the 
agencies for its administration as the distributors of official 
places and preferment. Those who in universit}^ or college 

25 have had an opportunity to study the mission of our institu- 
tions, and who in the light of history have learned the danger 
to a people of their neglect of the patriotic care they owe the 
national life intrusted to their keeping, should be well fitted 
to constantly admonish their fellow-citizens that the usefulness 

30 and beneficence of their plan of government can only be pre- 
served through willingness to accept in full return the peace, 
protection, and opportunity which it impartially bestows. 

Not more surely do the rules of honesty and good faith fix 
the standard of individual character in a community than do 

35 these same rules determine the character and standing of a 
nation in the world of civilization. Neither the glitter of its 



190 Commemoration. 

power, nor the tinsel of its commercial prosperity, nor the 
gaudy show of its people's wealth can conceal the cankering 
rust of national dishonesty, and cover the meanness of na- 
tional bad faith. A constant stream of thoughtful, educated 
men should come from our universities and colleges preach- 5 
ing national honor and integrity, and teaching that a belief in 
the necessity of national obedience to the laws of God is not 
born of superstition. 

I do not forget the practical necessity of political parties, 
nor do I deny their desirability. I recognize wholesome dif- 10 
ferences of opinion touching legitimate governmental policies, 
and would by no means control or limit the utmost freedom 
in their discussion. I have only attempted to suggest the im- 
portant patriotic service which our institutions of higher edu- 
cation, and their graduates are fitted to render to our people, 15 
in the enforcement of those immutable truths and fundamen- 
tal principles which are related to our national condition, but 
should never be dragged into the field of political strife nor 
impressed into the service of partisan contention. 

When the excitement of party warfare presses dangerously 20 
near our national safeguards, I would have the intelligent 
conservatism of our universities and colleges warn the con- 
testants in impressive tones against the perils of a breach im- 
possible to repair. 

When popular discontent and passion are stimulated by the 25 
arts of designing partisans to a pitch perilously near to class 
hatred or sectional anger, I would have our universities and 
colleges sound the alarm in the name of American brother- 
hood and fraternal dependence. 

When the attempt is made to delude the people into the 30 
belief that their suffrages can change the operation of na- 
tional laws, I would have our universities and colleges pro- 
claim that those laws are inexorable and far removed from 
political control. 

When selfish interest seeks undue private benefits through 35 
governmental aid, and public places are claimed as rewards 



Grover Cleveland. 191 

of party service, I would have our universities and colleges 
persuade the people to a relinquishment of the demand for 
party spoils and exhort them to a disinterested and patriotic 
love of their government for its own sake, and because in its 

5 true adjustment and unperverted operation it secures to every 
citizen his just share of the safety and prosperity it holds in 
store for all. 

When a design is apparent to lure the people from their 
honest thoughts and to blind their eyes to the sad plight of 

o national dishonor and bad faith, I would have Princeton Uni- 
versity, panoplied in her patriotic traditions and glorious 
memories, and joined by all the other universities and col- 
leges of our land, cry out against the infliction of this treach-. 
erous and fatal wound. 

5 I would have the influence of these institutions on the side 
of religion and moralit}^ I would have those they send out 
among the people not ashamed to acknowledge God, and to 
proclaim His interposition in the affairs of men, enjoining 
such obedience to His laws as makes manifest the path of 

:o national perpetuity and prosperity. 

I hasten to concede the good already accomplished by our 
educated men in purifying and steadying political sentiment ; 
but I hope I may be allowed to intimate my belief that their 
work in these directions would be easier and more useful if 

15 it were less spasmodic and occasional. The disposition of 
our people is such that while they may be inclined to distrust 
those who only on rare occasions come among them from an 
exclusiveness savoring of assumed superiority, they readily 
listen to those who exhibit a real fellowship and a friendly 

50 and habitual interest in all that concerns the common wel- 
fare. Such a condition of intimacy would, I believe, not only 
improve the general political atmosphere, but would vastly in- 
crease the influence of our universities and colleges in their 
efforts to prevent popular delusions or correct them before 

35 they reach an acute and dangerous stage. 

I am certain, therefore, that a more constant and active 



192 Commemoration. 

participation in political affairs on the part of our men of 
education would be of the greatest possible value to our 
country. 

It is exceedingly unfortunate that politics should be 
regarded in any quarter as an unclean thing, to be avoided 5 
by those claiming to be educated or respectable. It would 
be strange indeed if anything related to the administration of 
our government or the welfare of our nation should be es- 
sentially degrading. I believe it is not a superstitious senti- 
ment that leads to the conviction that God has watched over 10 
our national life from its beginning. Who will say that the 
things worthy of God's regard and fostering care are un- 
worthy of the touch of the wisest and best of men ? 

I would have those sent out by our universities and colleges 
not only the counsellors of their fellow-countrymen, but the 15 
tribunes of the people — fully appreciating every condition 
that presses upon their daily life, sympathetic in every un- 
toward situation, quick and earnest in every effort to advance 
their happiness and welfare, and prompt and sturdy in the 
defence of all their rights. 20 

I have but imperfectly expressed the thoughts to which I 
have not been able to deny utterance on an occasion so full 
of glad significance and, so pervaded by the atmosphere of 
patriotic aspiration. Born of these surroundings, the hope 
cannot be vain that the time is at hand when all our 25 
countrymen will more deeply appreciate the blessings of 
American citizenship, when their disinterested love of their 
government will be quickened, when fanaticism and passion 
shall be banished from the field of politics, and when all our 
people, discarding every difference of condition or oppor- 30 
tunity, will be seen under the banner of American brother- 
hood, marching steadily and unfalteringly on towards the 
bright heights of our national destiny. 



John D. Long. 193 

IV. 
JOHN D. LONG. 

Oration before the Grand Army Posts of Suffolk 
County.^ 

Trcmoiit Temple, Boston, May ^o, 1882 
I gratefully acknowledge your courtesy, veterans and 
members of the Suffolk Posts of the Grand Army, in inviting 
me, a civilian, to speak for you this day. I should shrink 
from the task, however, did I not know that in this, your 
5 purpose is to honor again the Commonwealth of which I am 
the official representative. By recent enactment she has made 
the day you celebrate one of her holy days, — a day sacred to 
the memory of her patriot dead and to the inspiration of pa- 
triotism in her living. Henceforward she emblazons it upon 

10 the calendar of the year with the consecrated days that have 
come down from the Pilgrim and the Puritan, with Christmas 
Day and with the birthdays of Washington and American 
Independence. So she commits herself afresh to the eternal 
foundations, which the fathers laid, of piety, education, free- 

15 dom, justice, law, and love of country. The time will come 
indeed, and speedily, when none of you shall remain to 
observe it, and when the last survivor, shouldering his crutch 
no more, shall lie down to rest with no comrade left to shed a 
tear or flower upon his grave. But the service you did, the 

20 sacrifice you made, the example you taught, more immortal 
than your crumbling dust, will forever live and illumine the 
world, as in the heavens, speeding so far from us that the eye 
sees not the vapor that enshrouds them, the stars shine only 
in purer and eternal glory. I can understand that, when the 

25 war closed, the same disinterested and single loyalty, which 
compelled the true citizen to arms, made many a soldier 
shrink from even the appearance of farther display, either by 

^ Reprinted by permission of John D. Long and Houghton, Mifflin & 
Co. from After Dinner and Other Speeches, p. 72. 



194 Commemoration. 

joining your organization or by publicly engaging in the deco- 
ration of graves. But with the lapse of time, with the inroads 
on the ranks, with this statutory recognition by the Common- 
wealth, — a recognition not more apt in desert than in 
time, — Memorial Day will hereafter gather around it not 5 
only the love and tears and pride of the generations of the 
people, but more and more, in its inner circle of tenderness, 
the linking memories of every comrade so long as one survives. 
As the dawn ushers it in, tinged already with the exquisite 
flush of hastening June, and sweet with the bursting fragrance i o 
of her roses, the wheels of time will each year roll back, and, 
lo ! John Andrew is at the State House, inspiring Massachu- 
setts with the throbbing of his own great heart ; Abraham 
Lincoln, wise and patient and honest and tender and true, is 
at the nation's helm; the North is one broad blaze ; the boys 15 
in blue are marching to the front ; the fife and drum are on 
every breeze ; the very air is patriotism ; Phil Sheridan, forty 
miles away, dashes back to turn defeat to victory ; Farragut, 
lashed to the masthead, is steaming into Mobile harbor ; 
Hooker is above the clouds, — ay, now indeed forever above 20 
the clouds ; Sherman marches through Georgia to the sea ; 
Grant has throttled Lee with the grip that never lets go ; 
Richmond falls ; the armies of the republic pass in that last 
great review at Washington ; Custer's plume is there, but Kear- 
ney's saddle is empty; and, now again, our veterans come 25 
marching home to receive the welcome of a grateful people, 
and to stack in Doric Hall the tattered flags which Massa- 
chusetts forever hence shall wear above her heart. 

In memory of the dead, in honor of the living, for inspi- 
ration to our children, we gather to-day to deck the graves of 30 
our patriots with flowers, to pledge commonwealth and town 
and citizen to fresh recognition of the surviving soldier, and 
to picture yet again the romance, the reality, the glory, the 
sacrifice of his service. As if it were but yesterday you 
recall him. He had but turned twenty. The exquisite tint 35B 
of youthful health was in his cheek. His pure heart shone 



John D. Long. 195 

from frank, out-speaking eyes. His fair hair clustered from 
beneath his cap. He had pulled a stout oar in the college 
race, or walked the most graceful athlete on the village green. 
He had just entered on the vocation of his life. The door- 
5 way of his home at this season of the year was brilliant in the 
dewy morn with the clambering vine and fragrant flower, as 
in and out he went, the beloved of mother and sisters, and the 
ideal of a New England youth : — 

" In face and shoulders like a god he was ; 
10 For o'er him had the goddess breathed the charm 

Of youthful locks, the ruddy glow of youth, 

A generous gladness in his eyes : such grace 

As carver's hand to ivory gives, or when 

Silver or Parian stone in yellow gold 
15 Is set. " 

The unreckoned influences of the great discussion of 
human rights had insensibly moulded him into a champion of 
freedom. He had passed no solitary and sleepless night 
watching the armor which he was to wear when dubbed next 

20 day with the accolade of knighthood. But over the student's 
lamp or at the fire-side's blaze he had passed the nobler 
initiate of a heart and mind trained to a fine sense of justice 
and to a resolution equal to the sacrifice of life itself in 
behalf of right and duty. He knew nothing of the web and 

25 woof of politics, but he knew instinctively the needs of his 
country. His ideal was Philip Sidney, not Napoleon. And 
when the drum beat, when the first martyr's blood sprinkled 
the stones of Baltimore, he took his place in the ranks and 
went forward. You remember his ingenuous and glowing 

30 letters to his mother, written as if his pen were dipped in his 
very heart. How novel seemed to him the routine of service, 
the life of camp and march ! How eager the wish to meet 
the enemy and strike his first blow for the good cause ! 
What pride at the commotion that came and put its chevron 

35 on his arm or its strap upon his shoulder ! How graphically 
he described his sensation in the first battle, the pallor that 



196 Commemoration. 

he felt creeping up his face, the thrilUng along every nerve, 
and then the utter fearlessness when once the charge began 
and his blood was up! Later on, how gratefully he wrote of 
the days in hospital, of the opening of the box from home, of 
the generous distributing of delicacies that loving ones had 5 
sent, and of the never-to-be-forgotten comfort of the gentle 
nurse whose eyes and hands seemed to bring to his bedside 
the summer freshness and health of the open windows of his 
and her New England homestead! No Amazon was she 
with callous half -breast ; but her whole woman's heart was 10 
devoted, as were the hearts of all her sisters at the North, to 
lightening the hardships and pain of war. Let her praise 
never fail to mingle in the soldier's tribute, or her abilities be 
belittled in a land to whose salvation and honor she con- 
tributed as nobly in her service as he in his. 15 

They took him prisoner. He wasted in Libby and grew 
gaunt and haggard with the horror of his sufferings and 
with pity for the greater horror of the sufferings of his com- 
rades who fainted and died at his side. He saw his school- 
mate panting with the fever of thirst, yet shot like a dog for 20 
reaching across the line to drink the stagnant water a dog 
would have scorned. He tunnelled the earth and escaped. 
Hungry and weak, in terror of recapture, he followed by 
night the pathway of the railroad. Upon its timbers, hoar 
with frost, he tottered in the dark over rivers that flowed deep 25 
beneath his treacherous foothold. He slept in thickets and 
sank in swamps. In long and painful circuits he stole 
around hamlets where he dared not ask for shelter. He 
saw the glitter of horsemen who pursued him. He knew 
the bloodhound was on his track. A faithful negro — good 30 
Samaritan — took compassion on him, bound up his wounds, 
and set him on his way. He reached the line ; and, with his 
hand grasping at freedom, they caught and took him back to 
his captivity. He was exchanged at last ; and you remember, 
when he came home on a short furlough, how manly and war- 35 
worn he had grown. But he soon returned to the ranks and 



John D. Long. 197 

to the welcome of his comrades. They loved hun for his 
manliness, his high bearing, his fine sense of honor. They 
felt the nobility of conduct and character that breathed out 
from him. They recall him now alike with tears and pride. 
5 In the rifle pits around Petersburg you heard his steady voice 
and firm command. The bullet of the sharp-shooter picked 
off the soldier who stood at his side and who fell dying in his 
arms, one last brief message whispered and faithfully sent 
home. It was a forlorn hope, — the charge of the brave regi- 

10 ment to which he belonged, reduced now by three years' long 
fighting to a hundred veterans, conscious that somebody had 
blundered yet grimly obedient to duty. Someone who saw 
him then fancied that he seemed that day Hke one who forefelt 
the end. But there was no flinching as he charged. He had 

15 just turned to give a cheer when the fatal ball struck him. 
There was a convulsion of the upward hand. His eyes, plead- 
ing and loyal, turned their last glance to the flag. His lips 
parted. He fell dead, and at nightfall lay with his face to the 
stars. Home they brought him, fairer than Adonis over whom 

20 the goddess of beauty wept. They buried him in the village 
churchyard under the green turf. Year by year his comrades 
and his kin, nearer than comrades, scatter his grave with 
flowers. His picture hangs on the homestead walls. 
Children look up at it and ask to hear his story told. It was 

25 twenty years ago ; and the face is so young, so boyish and 
fair, that you cannot believe he was the hero of twenty battles, 
a veteran in the wars, a leader of men, brave, cool, command- 
ing, great. Do you ask who he was ? He was in every reg- 
iment and every company. He went out from every 

30 Massachusetts village. He sleeps in every Massachusetts 
burying ground. Recall romance, recite the names of heroes 
of legend and song, but there is none that is his peer. Can 
you think of him and not count the cost of such a precious 
life, not thrill with gratitude at such a sacrifice, not ask why 

35 such promise, such hope, such worth, should have been cut 
down? I know not why it is in the providence of God that 



198 Commemoration. 

through blood — not the sacrifice of rams and goats, but the 
blood of human hearts — the great gains of human freedom 
have had their impulse, unless it be that in the laws of growth, 
as in the laws of light, it is the red rays that are strongest and 
that first shine through and flash the dawn, foretelling the 5 
pure white fire of the uprising sun. But this we do know : 
that, search history through, and you shall find no more heroic 
record of self-sacrifice, of courage, of the flower of youth giving 
itself to death for right and country's sake. Massachusetts 
will never forget the memory of these her martyrs. Their 10 
lives are insensibly moulding the character of her children at 
school or by fireside even while the busy man of years and of 
affairs may almost seem to have forgotten them. With you she 
weeps over their turf and crowns them with the laurel wreath. 

Yes, why was it ? Why do we recall all this ? Because 1 5 
the sacrifice is lost in the consummation, death is swallowed 
up in victory ; because it was not a nipped bud, but the full 
flower ; not a life cut off, but a life rounded and complete ; 
because the high ideals, the lofty purposes, the forward- 
looking ambition to be of service in the world were all 20 
fulfilled, not defeated, in these young men. If in our pride 
of conquest, if in these organizations and festivals our pur- 
pose were simply to count our excess of victories, to glory in 
superiority of endurance, strength, and numbers, to echo the 
gladiator's roar of triumph, to rake from the dying embers 25 
flashes of the stinging fires of hate, it were worse than time 
wasted. It was no fight of men with men. That is but 
brutality. It was the eternal war of right with wrong, w^hich 
is divine and wreathes an eternal crown of glory round the 
brow of the conqueror. Our foes were not worth beating if 30 
the purpose were simply to beat them. But it was the 
chastisement of love that overthrew, not them, but the 
false gods they worshipped, the false principles they obeyed, 
and that gave to them and secured^ to us a union for the 
first time founded on universal freedom and equality. And so 35 
it is that as sometimes a brave man perils and loses his life 



John D. Long. 199 

that he may save tliat of a Uttle child or even of a foe, so 
our heroes died that all their countrymen, North and South, 
might live the only life worth living, — the life of free men. 
It would be easy to say that the late war demonstrated that 

5 we are a nation of soldiers as well as of citizens, and to paint 

the laurels which, in case of another, we could win again on 

sea and land. But I prefer to say that the result is a united 

country, a solid South, such as it soon will be, only because 

at last and forever solidly identified with the education, the 

I o business growth, the glowing enterprise of the North, — its 

common people taught in common schools, its vast fields open 

to the stimulating immigration of the globe, its great rivers 

turning the wheels of peaceful and prosperous industries, — 

a united country that counts as nothing its ability to fight the 

15 world, but as ever}-thing its ability' to lead the world in the 

arts of peace, secure in the consciousness rather than in the 

exhibition of power, and cemented not by blood, but by ideas. 

This is our triumph, — not that we overthrew a brave 

though ignorant, provincial, misguided foe, stunted by the 

o barbarism of slavery, but that we have forever established 
in fact the principle that all men are born free and equal ; 
have destroyed the doctrine of caste ; have proved the 
stability and permanence of a government of the people ; 
have consolidated our heterogeneous population and made 

; them all of one birth and kin, so that the names of our 
fallen dead no longer, like those on the Lexington column, 
are all patronymics of pure New England stock, but, as you 
may now read them on the later shafts throughout the 
commonwealth, represent every nationality, each blending 

3. in the one common destiny of the American republic. We 
have confirmed the policy of honesty in financial adminis- 
tration, of keeping good the nation's promise, and of giving 
its people an honest dollar. We have struck the shackles 
from the feet of the slave and from the soul of his master. 

35 We have let loose the energies of a free people, which are 
turning this great domain into a hive of industry and 



200 Commemoration. 

prosperity, girting it with bands of iron rails, and disem- 
boweling its mines of gold and silver and more precious 
ores. Best of all we have emancipated the prodigal States 
themselves from the swineherd's thralldom, and put rings on 
their hands and shoes on their feet, allowing them to justly 
share but never more to domineer. It was General Greene, 
of our neighbor Rhode Island, who a hundred years ago 
led South Carolina to victory in the War for Independence. 
It was General Lincoln, of our own Massachusetts, who 
received the sword of Cornwallis at Yorktown, in the same i 
good cause. Since then, South Carolina ahd Virginia, false 
to that cause, have struck their flags to the men of Rhode 
Island and Massachusetts who held them to their better 
duty. They will not repeat that mistake. Within this 
month, at the centennial celebration of Cowpens, it was 
Colonel Higginson, a representative of the Massachusetts 
Executive, who spoke for New England on the same plat- 
form with General Hampton, whose slaves, less than twenty 
years ago, the colonel had armed against this their master 
in the cause of their own liberty. And both struck the J 
same high note of freedom, of progress, of the new era of a 
higher destiny. In October next, the soldiers of the North 
will again encamp at Yorktown. But it will be to celebrate, 
not the slaughters of the Peninsular campaign, but the 
hundredth anniversary of the achievement of American:5 
Independence. On that day, the President of the Union 
and the representatives of every State in it will look back 
over the century and pay tribute to its sacrifices and its 
triumphs. But with faces on which no shadow will fall, 
they will turn anon and look forward for centuries to come 30 
upon the more glorious fraternal progress of the future, 
It has been said that it would be better to blot out this da} 
and with it every recollection of the past it commemorates 
I believe it is better to keep the day and to forget nothing 
of the past, if so on both sides we make the past a lesson fo" 35 
the future, and out of its very nettle of horror and dange* 



John D. Long. 201 

pluck the flower of safety. The mere man you fought is 
naught, and it is indeed better to forgive and forget him. 
But the victory you won over him was the victory of prin- 
ciple and is eternal. Proud may you be indeed to keep it 
5 known that you share and transmit its glory ; that, having as 
soldiers saved the republic, as citizens you perpetuate it ; that 
you recall a youth not lost but made immortal. Proud, too, 
the Commonwealth of such sons ; secure in their hands alike 
in peace or war; her motto still, THE QUIETUDE OF 

10 PEACE WITH LIBERTY BUT ELSE THE SWORD. 

In that Commonwealth, her very soil rich with ashes of 

heroes and giants, fitting it is that you should not limit the 

honors you bestow this day to the graves only of the recent 

dead, but should extend them to the dead who for two hun- 

15 dred and fifty years have been, by force of their indelible 
impress, the real life, transcending ours, of Massachusetts. 
And fitting it is that I, echoing their sentiment and yours, 
the sentiment that never was ungenerous or narrow, should 
speak no word that is not liberal, no thought that is not 

20 national, no hope of future good that is not as broad as our 
common country, or that does not embrace the happiness of 
every citizen, whatever his color or birth, whatever his faith 
or toil, whatever his section or estate. For we commemo- 
rate to-day not more the heroism of the past than the 

25 common weal of the present, — the equality of citizenship, 
in honor commanding respect, in duty commanding service. 

As I look, veterans, upon your faces, your thinner ranks, 
your brows on which time is writing in plainer lines its 
autograph, true, indeed, I know it is that the number of the 

30 survivors is fast diminishing, and that with the close of the 
century few will remain. But they will all still live in 
the works that do follow them, — in a civilization better 
because purified by the searching fire of war from the dross 
of human slavery and political inequality, and in a country 

35 lifted up to a higher plane of justice, mercy and righteous- 
ness. They will live, too, in history, — in the history of a 



202 Commemoration. 

patriotic people, pictured in pages more graphic than those 
of Plutarch or Macaulay, in the songs of poets who shall 
sing a nobler than Virgil's man, and an epic loftier than the 
Iliad. They will live, too, in these monuments of stone and 
bronze which we erect not more to their memory than to the 5 
incitement and education of coming generations. It might 
be said that we are now in our monumental age. The 
towering obelisk at Bunker Hill, the homely pillar on Lex- 
ington Green, are no longer the only columns that write in 
granite the record of our glory. At Plymouth, the colossal 10 
figure of Faith, looking out over the sea, catching from its 
horizon the first tints of the morning, and guarding the 
graves of the Pilgrims, proclaims to the world the story 
of the Mayflower and its precious freight of civil and 
religious liberty. Across the bay rises almost to comple- 15 
tion the plain but solid shaft that marks the home of Miles 
Standish, that sturdy type of courage and independence in 
life and faith which has been multiplied in New England 
in every phase of its thought and culture. In Boston, before 
the State House, Webster, defender of the Constitution, and 20 
Mann, the promoter of public education. Before its City 
Hall, Franklin, the most prolific and comprehensive brain in 
American history, and Quincy, a noble name in Massachu- 
setts for generation after generation. In its public squares, 
Winthrop, the Puritan founder, Sam Adams, true leader of 25 
the people, and Abraham Lincoln, emancipator of the grate- 
ful race that kneels enfranchised at his feet. In its Public 
Garden, the equestrian statue of Father Washington, the 
figure of Charles Sumner, and the uplifted arm of Everett. 
And in its avenues, Hamilton, the youthful founder of our 30 
national finance, and John Glover, colonel of the Marble- 
head regiment, whose lusty arms and oars rescued Wash- 
ington from Long Island. At Mount Auburn, James Otis, 
that flame of fire. At Lexington, Hancock and Adams. 
At Concord, the embattled farmer. In Hingham, in marble 35 
pure as his own heroic instincts, that war governor, who in 



John D. Long. 203 

the heart of the Massachusetts soldier can never be disasso- 
ciated from the sympathies and martyrdom of the service 
which he shared with you even to his life. And now, in 
Chelsea, the national flag, floating out its bright and rippling 

5 cheer from the year's beginning to its end, waves over the 
Soldiers' Home, which has been secured by your contribu- 
tions, so that if haply there be one needy veteran whom the 
magnificent and unparalleled provisions of Massachusetts 
fails, as all general laws must, in some rare cases, fail to reach, 

10 there he may find a shelter that shall not dishonor him. 
Time and your patience would fail an enumeration of the 
monuments which, within a few years, have dotted the State, 
and in whose massive handwriting the century is recording 
for centuries hence its story of heroism, so plain, so legible, 

15 that though a new Babel should arise, and the English 
tongue be lost, the human heart and eye will still read it at a 
glance. Scarce a town is there — from Boston, with its 
magnificent column crowned with the statue of America, at 
the dedication of which even the conquered Southron came 

20 to pay honor, to the humblest stone in rural villages — in 
which these monuments do not rise summer and winter, in 
snow and sun, day and night, to tell how universal was the 
response of Massachusetts to the call of the patriot's duty, 
whether it rang above the city's din or broke the quiet of the 

25 farm. On city square and village green stand the graceful 
figures of student, clerk, mechanic, farmer, in that endeared 
and never-to-be-forgotten war uniform of the soldier or the 
sailor, their stern young faces to the front, still on guard, 
watching the work they wrought in the flesh, and teaching, 

30 in eloquent silence, the lesson of the citizen's duty to the 
State. How our children will study these ! How they will 
search and read their names ! How quaint and antique to 
them will seem their arms and costumes ! How they will 
gather and store up in their minds the fine, insensibly 

35 filtering percolation of the sentiment of valor, of loyalty, of 
fight for right, of resistance against wrong, just as we in- 



204 Commemoration. 

herited all this from the Revolutionary era, so that, when 
some crisis shall in the future come to them, as it came to us, 
they will spring to the rescue, as sprang our youth in the 
beauty and chivalry of the consciousness of a noble descent. 

During the late Turco-Russian war, I passed an evening 5 
in a modest home in a quiet country town. It was a wild 
night. The family circle sat by the open fire of a New 
England sitting-room. They told me of a son of that house, 
a young man already known in literature and art, who, full 
of the spirit of adventure, was at that moment, as war 10 
correspondent of a great London daily, with the head of the 
Russian army in Bulgaria. They read me his letters, in 
which he interwove affectionate inquiries and memories of 
home with vivid descriptions of battles, of wounds, of 
Turkish barbarities, of desolated villages, of murdered and 15 
mutilated peasants, of long marches through worse than 
Virginian mud, of wild bivouac in rain and tempest, of 
stirring incidents of the Russian camp, of the thousand 
shifting scenes of the theatre of a campaign, till suddenly 
that quiet room in which we sat was transfigured, and we, 20 
snug sheltered from the storm, were apace translated over 
the sea into the very stir and toss of the war, our sympa- 
thies, our hopes, our interests, our very selves all there. 

And so it is with us always. Shut up within ourselves, our 
minds intent on nothing but the narrow limits of immediate 25 
place and time, our hearts and fists closing tighter on our 
little own, we shrivel like dry leaves. But let the thrill 
of that common humanity electrify us which links together 
all men, all time past, present, and to come, and we spring 
into the upper air. When we do these honors to the deserv- 30 
ing dead, when we revive not alone the fact but the ideal of 
their service, we strike a chord that forever binds us and the 
world around us with all great heroisms, with all great 
causes and sacrifices, with the throb of that loftier moral 
atmosphere which is lost only in the unison of man's immor- 35 
tal soul with the soul of God the Father. 



^1 



DEDICATIONS. 



Each of these two speeches is the message of a leader : No. II shows 
the essentiality in facing a complicated problem in persuasion of 
selecting skilfully a central idea and an apt and striking illustration of 
it ; No. I proves that even the speech which would have been satisfac- 
tory had it been merely a perfunctory fulfilling of part of a formal pro- 
gram may be turned into something which, for its thought and its phrase, 
will probably last as long as the language in which it was uttered. 



I. 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 
Gettysburg Address. 

November ig, i86j. 

[" Mr. David Wills, of Gettysburg, first suggested the creation of a 
national cemetery on the battlefield, and under Gov. Curtin's direction 
and cooperation he purchased the land for Pennsylvania and other 
States interested, and superintended the improvements. ... On Novem- 
5 ber 2 Mr. Wills wrote the President a formal invitation to take part in 
the dedication." Edward Everett had been chosen to deliver the ora- 
tion. 

" Mr. Lincoln had a little more than two weeks in which to prepare the 
remarks he might intend to make. It was a time when he was ex- 

10 tremelybusy, not alone with the important and complicated military af- 
fairs in the various armies, but also wdth the consideration of his annual 
message to Congress, which was to meet early in December. There 
was even great uncertainty whether he could take enough time from his 
pressing official duties to go to Gettysburg at all. . . . 

15 There is no decisive record of when Mr. Lincoln wrote the first sen- 
tences of his proposed address. He probably followed his usual habit 
in such matters, using great deliberation in arranging his thoughts and 
molding his phrases mentally, waiting to reduce them to writing until 
they had taken satisfactory form. 

20 There was much greater necessity for such precaution in this case, 
because the invitation specified that the address of dedication should 
only be ' a few appropriate remarks.' Brevity in speech and writing was 
one of Lincoln's marked characteristics ; but in this instance there existed 
two other motives calculated to strongly support his natural inclinations. 

25 One was that Mr. Everett would be certain to make a long address ; 
the other, the want of opportunity even to think leisurely about what he 
might desire to say. All this strongly confirms the correctness of the 
statement made by the Hon. James Speed, in an interview printed in 
the ' Louisville Commercial,' in November, 1879, that the President told 

30 him that * the day before he left Washington he found time to write 
about half of his speech.' . . . 

This portion of the manuscript begins with the line ' four score and 

207 



2o8 Dedications. 

seven years ago ' and ends ' It is rather for us the living,' etc. The 
whole of this first page — nineteen lines — is written in ink in the Presi- 
dent's strong, clear hand, without blot or erasure ; and the last hne is in 
the following form, ' It is rather for us the living to stand here,' the 
last three words being, like the rest, in ink. From the fact that this 5 
sentence is incomplete, we may infer that at the time of writing it in 
Washington the remainder of the sentence was also written in ink on 
another piece of paper. But when, at Gettysburg on the morning of the 
ceremonies, Mr. Lincoln finished his manuscript, he used a lead pencil 
with which he crossed out the last three words of the first page, and 10 
wrote above them in pencil ' we here be dedica,' at which point he took 
up a new half sheet of paper. . . . and on this he wrote, all in pencil, 
the remainder of the word and of the first draft of the address, compris- 
ing a total of nine lines and a half. The time occupied in this final 
writing was probably about an hour, for it is not likely that he left the 1 5 
breakfast table before nine o'clock, and the formation of the procession 
began at ten. ... It was fully noon before Mr. Everett began his ad- 
dress, after which, for two hours he held the assembled multitude in 
rapt attention with his eloquent description and argument, his poUshed 
diction, his carefully studied and practised delivery. 20 

When he had concluded, and the band had performed the Usual 
musical interlude. President Lincoln rose to fill the part assigned him in 
the program. It was entirely natural for every one to expect that this 
would consist of a few perfunctory words, the mere formality of official 
dedication. There is every probability that the assemblage regarded 25 
Mr. Everett as the mouthpiece, the organ of expression of the thought 
and feeling of the hour, and took it for granted that Mr. Lincoln was 
there as a mere official figurehead, the culminating decoration, so to 
speak, of the elaborately planned pageant of the day. They were there- 
fore totally unprepared for what they heard, and could not immediately 30 
realize that his words, and not those of the carefully selected orator, 
were to carry the concentrated thought of the occasion like a trumpet 
peal to farthest posterity. 

The newspaper records indicate that when Mr. Lincoln began to 
speak, he held in his hand the manuscript first draft of his address 35 
which he had finished only a short time before. But it is the distinct 
recollection of the writer, who sat within a few feet of him, that he did 
not read from the written pages, though that impression was naturally 
left on many of his auditors. That it was not a mere mechanical read- 
ing is, however, more definitely confirmed by the circumstance that Mr. 40 
Lincoln did not deliver the address in the exact form in which his first 
draft is written. Condensed from Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, J. G. 
Nicolay, Century Magazine, XLVII, pp. 596-602.] 



Abraham Lincoln. 209 

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth 
on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and 
dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. 
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether 
5 that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, 
can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that 
war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a 
final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that 
that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper 

10 that we should do this. 

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot 
consecrate — we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave 
men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated 
it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world 

15 will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it 
can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, 
rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which 
they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It 
is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task re- 

20 maining before us — that from these honored dead we take 
increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last 
full measure of devotion ; that we here highly resolve that 
these dead shall not have died in vain ; that this nation, 
under God, shall have a new birth of freedom ; and that 

25 government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall 
not perish from the earth. 



21 o Dedications. 

II. 

BOOKER T. WASHINGTON. 

Address at the Opening of the Atlanta Exposition.^ 

[" As the day for the opening of the [Atlanta] Exposition drew near 
the Board of Directors began preparing the programme for the opening 
exercises. In the discussion from day to day of the various features of 
this programme, the question came up as to the advisability of putting 
a member of the Negro race on for one of the opening addresses, since 5 
the Negroes had been asked to take such a prominent part in the Expo- 
sition. It w^as argued further that such recognition would mark the 
good feeling prevaiUng between the two races. Of course there were 
those who were opposed to any such recognition of the rights of the 
Negro, but the Board of Directors, composed of men who represented lo 
the best and most progressive element in the South, had their way, and 
voted to invite a black man to speak on the opening day. . . . 

After the question had been canvassed for several days, the directors 
voted unanimously to ask me to deliver one of the opening day ad- 
dresses. . . . What were my feelings when this invitation came to me ? I 1 5 
remembered that I had been a slave, that my early years had been spent 
in the lowest depths of poverty and ignorance, and that I had had little 
opportunity to prepare me for such a responsibihty as this. It was 
only a few years before that time any white man in the audience might 
have claimed me as his slave ; and it was easily possible that some of 20 
my former owners might be present to hear me speak. I knew, too, 
that this was the first time in the entire history of the Negro that a 
member of my race had been asked to speak from the same platform 
with white Southern men and women on any important national occa- 
sion. I was asked now to speak to an audience composed of the wealth 25 
and culture of the white South, the representatives of my former mas- 
ters. I knew, too, that while the greater part of my audience would be 
composed of Southern people, yet there would be present a large num- 
ber of Northern whites, as well as a great many men and women of my 
own race. 30 

I was determined to say nothing that I did not feel from the bottom 
of my heart to be true and right. When the invitation came to me, 
there was not one word of intimation as to what I should say or as to 

1 Reprinted by permission of Booker T. Washington from Up from 
Slavery. Copyright, 1901, by Doubleday, Page & Co, 



Booker T. Washington. 211 



what I should omit. In this I felt that the Board of Directors had paid 
a tribute to me. They knew that by one sentence I could have blasted, 
in a large degree, the success of the Exposition. I was also painfully 
conscious of the fact that, while I must be true to my own race in my 
5 utterances, I had it in my power to make such an ill-timed address as 
would result in preventing any similar invitation being extended to a 
black man again for several years to come. I was equally determined 
to be true to the North, as well as to the best element of the white 
South, in what I had to say. 

10 The papers. North and South, had taken up the discussion of my 
coming speech, and as the time for it drew near this discussion 
became more and more widespread. Not a few of the Southern 
white papers were unfriendly to the idea of my speaking. From my 
own race I received many suggestions as to what I ought to say. I 

15 prepared myself as best I could for the address, but as the eighteenth 
of September drew nearer, the heavier my heart became, and the more 
I feared that my effort would prove a failure and a disappointment. 

[After reading the address to Mrs. Washington and the Tuskegee 
teachers] I felt somewhat relieved, since they seemed to think well of 

20 what I had to say, 

[When] I started for Atlanta, I felt a good deal as I suppose a man 
feels when he is on his way to the gallows. In passing through the 
town of Tuskegee I met a white farmer who lived some distance out in 
the country. In a jesting manner this man said : ' Washington, you 

25 have spoken before the Northern white people, the Negroes in the 
South, and to us country white people in the South ; but in Atlanta, 
to-morrow, you will have before you the Northern whites, the Southern 
whites, and the Negroes all together. I am afraid you have got your- 
self into a tight place '. . . . 

30 In the course of the journey from Tuskegee to Atlanta both coloured 
and white people came to the train to point me out, and discussed with 
perfect freedom, in my hearing, what was going to take place the next 
day. 

Atlanta was literally packed, at the time, with people from all parts 

35 of this country, and with representatives of foreign governments, as well 
as military and civic organizations. The afternoon papers had forecasts 
of the next day's proceedings in flaring headlines. All this tended to 
add to my burden. I did not sleep much that night. The next morn- 
ing, before day, I went carefully over what I intended to say. I also 

40 kneeled down and asked God's blessing upon my effort. Right here 
perhaps I ought to add that I make it a rule never to go before 
an audience, on any occasion, without asking the blessing of God upon 
what I want to say. 



2 1 2 Dedications. 

I always make it a rule to make especial preparation for each separate 
address. No two audiences are exactly alike. It is my aim to reach 
and talk to the heart of each individual audience, taking it into my con- 
fidence much as I would a person. When I am speaking to an audi- 
ence, I care little for how what I am saying is going to sound in 5 
the newspapers, or to another audience, or to an individual. At the 
time, the audience before me absorbs all my sympathy, thought, and 
energy. . . . 

The procession was about three hours in reaching the Exposition 
grounds, and during all of this time the sun was shining down upon us 10 
disagreeably hot. When we reached the grounds, the heat, together 
with my nervous anxiety, made me feel as if I were about ready to 
collapse, and to feel that my address was not going to be a success. 
When I entered the audience room, I found it packed with humanity 
from bottom to top, and there were thousands outside who could 15 
not get in. . . . The room was very large, and well suited to public 
speaking. When I entered, there were vigorous cheers from the 
coloured portion of the audience, and faint cheers from some of the 
white people. I had been told, while I had been in Atlanta, that while 
many white people were going to be present to hear me speak, simply 20 
out of curiosity, and that others who would be present would be in full 
sympathy with me, there was a still larger element of the audience 
which would consist of those who were going to be present for the pur- 
pose of hearing me make a fool of myself, or, at least, of hearing me 
say some foolish thing, so that they could say to the officials who had 25 
invited me to speak, ' I told you so ! ' 

One of the trustees of the Tuskegee Institute, as well as my personal 
friend, Mr. William H. Baldwin, Jr. happened to be in Atlanta that 
day. He was so nervous about the kind of reception that I would have, 
and the effect that my speech would produce, that he could not per- 30 
suade himself to go into the building, but walked back and forth in the 
grounds outside until the opening exercises were over. , . . 

Governor Bullock introduced me with the words, ' We have with us 
to-day a representative of Negro enterprise and Negro civilization.' 

When I arose to speak, there was considerable cheering, especially 35 
from the coloured people. As I remember it now, the thing that was 
uppermost in my mind was the desire to say something that would 
cement the friendship of the races and bring about hearty cooperation 
between them. So far as my outward surroundings were concerned, the 
only thing that I recall distinctly now is that when I got up, I saw thou- 40 
sands of eyes looking intently into my face. . . . 

The first thing that I remember, after I had finished speaking, was 
that Governor Bullock rushed across the platform and took me by the 



Booker T. Washington. 213 

hand, and that others did the same. I received so many and such 
hearty congratulations that I found it difficult to get out of the building. 
I did not appreciate to any degree, however, the impression which my 
address seemed to have made, until the next morning, when I went into 
5 the business part of the city. As soon as I was recognized, I was sur- 
prised to find myself pointed out and surrounded by a crowd of men 
who wished to shake hands with me. This was kept up on every street 
on to which I went, to an extent which embarrassed me so much that I 
went back to my boarding-place. The next morning I returned to 

10 Tuskegee, At every station in Atlanta, and at almost all of the stations 
at which the train stopped between that city and Tuskegee, I found a 
crowd of people anxious to shake hands with me. 

The papers in all parts of the United States published the address in 
full, and for months afterward there were complimentary editorial ref- 

i^ erences to it. Mr. Clark Howell, the editor of the Atlanta Constitution, 
telegraphed to a New York paper, among other words, the following, 
' I do not exaggerate when I say that Professor Booker T. Washing- 
ton's address yesterday was one of the most notable speeches, both as 
to character and as to the warmth of its reception, ever delivered to a 

20 Southern Audience. The address was a revelation. The whole speech 
is a platform upon which blacks and whites can stand with full justice 
to each other." Condensed from Up from Slavery^ B. T. Washington, 
Doubleday, Page & Co., pp. 206-26.] 



Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Board of Direc- 
25 TORS AND Citizens. 

One-third of the population of the South is of the Negro 
race. No enterprise seeking the material, civil, or moral 
welfare of this section can disregard this element of our 
population and reach the highest success. I but convey to 

30 you, Mr. President and Directors, the sentiment of the 
masses of my race when I say that in no way have the 
value and manhood of the American Negro been more fit- 
tingly and generously recognized than by the managers of 
this magnificent Exposition at every stage of its progress. 

35 It is a recognition that will do more to cement the friend- 
ship of the two races than any occurrence since the dawn 
of our freedom. 

Not only this, but the opportunity here afforded will 



214 Dedications. 



" 



awaken among us a new era of industrial progress. Igno- 
rant and inexperienced, it is not strange that in the first years 
of our new Ufe we began at the top instead of at the bottom ; 
that a seat in Congress or the State legislature was more 
sought than real estate or industrial skill ; that the political 5 
convention or stump speaking had more attractions than 
starting a dairy farm or truck garden. 

A ship lost at sea for many days suddenly sighted a 
friendly vessel. From the mast of the unfortunate vessel 
was seen a signal, " Water, water ; we die of thirst ! " The 10 
answer from the friendly vessel at once came back, " Cast 
down your bucket where you are." A second time the signal, 
" Water, water ; send us water ! " ran up from the distressed 
vessel, and was answered, " Cast down your bucket where 
you are." And a third and fourth signal for w^ater was 15 
answered, " Cast down your bucket where you are." The 
captain of the distressed vessel, at last heeding the injunc- 
tion, cast down his bucket, and it came up full of fresh 
sparkling water from the mouth of the Amazon River. To 
those of my race who depend on bettering their condition in 20 
a foreign land or who underestimate the importance of culti- 
vating friendly relations with the Southern white man, who 
is their next-door neighbor, I w^ould say : "Cast down your 
bucket Avhere you are " — cast it down in making friends in 
every manly way of the people of all races by whom we are 25 
surrounded. 

Cast it down in agriculture, mechanics, in commerce, in 
domestic service, and in the professions. And in this con- 
nection it is well to bear in mind that whatever other sins 
the South may be called to bear, when it comes to business, 30 
pure and simple, it is in the South that the Negro is given a 
man's chance in the commercial world, and in nothing is this 
Exposition more eloquent than in emphasizing this chance. 
Our greatest danger is that in the great leap from slavery to 
freedom we may overlook the fact that the masses of us are 35 
to live by the productions of our hands, and fail to keep in 



Booker T. Washington. 215 



mind that we shall prosper in proportion as we learn to dig- 
nify and glorify common labor and put brains and skill into 
the common occupations of life ; shall prosper in proportion 
as we learn to draw the line between the superficial and the 
5 substantial, the ornamental gewgaws of life and the useful. 
No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dig- 
nity in tilling a field as in writing a poem. It is at the 
bottom of life w^e must begin, and not at the top. Nor 
should we permit our grievances to overshadow our oppor- 

10 tunities. 

To those of the white race who look to the incoming of 
those of foreign birth and strange tongue and habits for the 
prosperit}^ of the South, were I permitted I would repeat 
what I say to my own race, " Cast down your bucket where 

15 you are." Cast it down among the eight millions of Negroes 
whose habits you know, whose fidelity and love you have 
tested in days when to have proved treacherous meant the 
ruin of your firesides. Cast down your bucket among these 
people who have, without strikes and labour wars, tilled 

20 your fields, cleared your forests, builded your railroads and 
cities, and brought forth treasures from the bowels of the 
earth, and helped make possible this magnificent represen- 
tation of the progress of the South. Casting down your 
bucket among my people, helping and encouraging them as 

25 you are doing on these grounds, and to education of head, 
hand, and heart, you will find that they will buy your surplus 
land, make blossom the waste places in your fields, and run 
your factories. While doing this, you can be sure in the 
future, as in the past, that you and your families will be sur- 

30 rounded by the most patient, faithful, law-abiding, and un- 
resentful people that the world has seen. As we have 
proved our loyalty to you in the past, in nursing your 
children, watching by the sick-bed of your mothers and 
fathers, and often following them with tear-dimmed eyes to 

35 their graves, so in the future, in our humble way, we shall 
stand by you with a devotion that no foreigner can approach, 



21 6 Dedications. 

ready to lay down our lives, if need be, in defence of yours, 
interlacing our industrial, commercial, civil, and religious 
life with yours in a way that shall make the interests of both 
races one. In all things that are purely social we can be as 
separate as the fingers, yet one as the hand in all things 5 
essential to mutual progress. 

There is no defence or security for any of us except in the 
highest intelligence and development of all. If anywhere 
there are efforts tending to curtail the fullest growth of the 
Negro, let these efforts be turned into stimulating, encour- 10 
aging, and making him the most useful and intelligent 
citizen. Effort or means so invested will pay a thousand 
per cent interest. These efforts will be twice blessed — 
" blessing him that gives and him that takes." 

There is no escape through law of man or God from the 15 
inevitable : — 

The laws of changeless justice bind 

Oppressor with oppressed ; 
And close as sin and suffering joined 

We march to fate abreast. 20 

Nearly sixteen millions of hands will aid you in pulling 
the load upward, or they will pull against you the load down- 
ward. We shall constitute one-third and more of the igno- 
rance and crime of the South, or one-third its intelligence and 
progress ; we shall contribute one-third to the business and 25 
industrial prosperity of the South, or we shall prove a verit- 
able body of death, stagnating, depressing, retarding every 
effort to advance the body politic. 

Gentlemen of the Exposition, as we present to you our 
humble effort at an exhibition of our progress, you must not 30 
expect overmuch. Starting thirty years ago with owner- 
ship here and there in a few quilts and pumpkins and 
chickens (gathered from miscellaneous sources), remember the 
path that has led from these to the inventions and produc- 
tion of agricultural implements, buggies, steam-engines, 35 



Booker T. Washington. 217 

newspapers, books, statuary, carving, paintings, the manage- 
ment of drug stores and banks, has not been trodden without 
contact with thorns and thistles. While we take pride in 
what we exhibit as a result of our independent efforts, we do 

5 not for a moment forget that our part in this exhibition 
would fall far short of your expectations but for the constant 
help that has come to our educational life, not only from the 
Southern States, but especially from Northern philanthropists, 
who have made their gifts a constant stream of blessing and 

10 encouragement. 

The wisest among my race understand that the agitation 
of questions of social equality is the extremest folly, and 
that progress in the enjoyment of all the privileges that 
will come to us must be the result of severe and constant 

15 struggle rather than of artificial forcing. No race that has 
anything to contribute to the markets of the world is long in 
any degree ostracized. It is important and right that all 
privileges of the law be ours, but it is vastly more important 
that we be prepared for the exercise of these privileges. 

20 The opportunity to earn a dollar in a factory just now is 
worth infinitely more than the opportunity to spend a dollar 
in an opera-house. 

In conclusion, may I repeat that nothing in thirty years 
has given us more hope and encouragement, and drawn us 

25 so near to you of the white race, as this opportunity offered 
by the Exposition ; and here bending, as it were, over the 
altar that represents the struggles of your race and mine, 
both starting practically empty-handed three decades ago, I 
pledge that in your effort to work out the great and intricate 

30 problem which God has laid at the doors of the South, you 
shall have at all times the patient, sympathetic help of my 
race ; only let this be constantly in mind, that, while from 
representations in these buildings of the product of field, of 
forest, of mine, of factory, letters, and art, much good will 

35 come, yet far above and beyond material benefits will be that 
higher good, that, let us pray God, will come, in a blotting 



2 1 8 Dedications. 

out of sectional differences and racial animosities and sus- 
picions, in a determination to administer absolute justice, in 
a willing obedience among all classes to the mandates of the 
law. This, this, coupled with our material prosperity, will 
bring into our beloved South a new heaven and a new earth. 



SPEECH OF WELCOME. 



CHARLES W. ELIOT. 
Speech of Welcome to Prince Henry of Prussia.^ 

Delivered at a Complimentary Dinner given to the Prince by the 
City of Boston, March 6, 1902, 

Mr. Mayor, Your Royal Highness, Governor Crane : 
The nation's guests — Boston's this evening — have just had 
some momentary gUmpses of the extemporized American 
cities, of the prairies and the Alleghenies, of some great 
5 rivers and lakes, and of prodigious Niagara ; and so they 
have perhaps some vision of the large scale of our country, 
although they have run over not more than one-thirtieth of 
its area. But now they have come to little Massachusetts, 
lying on the extreme eastern seacoast — by comparison a 

10 minute commonwealth, with a rough climate and a poor soil. 
It has no grand scenery to exhibit, no stately castles, chur- 
ches or palaces come down through centuries, such as 
Europe offers, and for at least two generations it has been 
quite unable to compete with the fertile fields of the West in 

15 producing its own food supplies. What has Massachusetts 
to show them, or any intelligent European visitors? Only 
the fruitage — social, industrial and governmental — of the 
oldest and most prosperous democracy in the world. 

For two hundred and eighty years this little commonwealth 

20 has been developing in freedom, with no class legisla- 
tion, feudal system, dominant church, or standing army to 
hinder or restrain it. The period of development has been 
long enough to show what the issues of democracy are likely 
to be ; and it must be interesting for cultivated men brought 

25 up under another regime to observe that human nature turns 

^ Reprinted by permission of Charles W. Eliot. 



222 Speech of Welcome. 

out to be much the same thing under a democratic form of 
government as under the earlier forms, and that the funda- 
mental motives and objects of mankind remain almost un- 
changed amid external conditions somewhat novel. 

Democracy has not discovered or created a new human 5 
nature ; it has only modified a little the familiar article. 
The domestic affections, and loyalty to tribe, clan, race 
or nation still rule mankind. The family motive remains 
supreme. 

It is an accepted fact that the character of each civilized 10 
nation is well exhibited in its universities. Now Harvard 
University has been largely governed for two hundred and fifty 
years by a body of seven men called the Corporation. Every 
member of that Corporation Avhich received your royal high- 
ness this afternoon at Cambridge is descended from a family 15 
stock which has been serviceable in Massachusetts for at 
least seven generations. 

More than one hundred years ago Washington was asked 
to describe all the high officers in the American army of that 
day who might be thought of for the chief command. He 20 
gave his highest praise to Maj.-Gen. Lincoln of Massachusetts, 
saying of him that he was "sensible, brave and honest." 
There are Massachusetts Lincolns today to whom these 
words exactly apply. 

The democracy preserves and- uses sound old families; 25 
it also utilizes strong blood from foreign sources. Thus, in 
the second governing board of Harvard University — the 
Overseers — a French Bonaparte, a member of the Roman 
Catholic church, sits beside a Scotch farmer's son, Presby- 
terian by birth and education, now become the leader in 30 
every sense of the most famous Puritan church in Boston. 
The democracy also promotes human beings of remarkable 
natural gifts who appear as sudden outbursts of personal 
power, without prediction or announcement through family 
merit. It is the social mobility of a democracy which en- 35 
ables it to give immediate place to personal merit, whether 



Charles W. Eliot. 



223 



inherited or not, and also silently to drop unserviceable de- 
scendants of earlier meritorious generations. 

Democracy, then, is only a further unfolding of multi- 
tudinous human nature, which is essentially stable. It does 
5 not mean the abolition of leadership, or an averaged popula- 
tion, or a dead-level of society. Like monarchical and aris- 
tocratic forms of government, it means a potent influence for 
those who prove capable of exerting it, and a highly-diversi- 
fied society on many shifting levels, determined in liberty, 

10 and perpetually exchanging members up and down. It 
means sensuous luxury for those who want it, and can afford 
to pay for it ; and for the wise rich it provides the fine lux- 
ury of promoting pubhc objects by well-considered giving. 
Since all the world seems tending toward this somewhat 

15 formidable democracy, it is encouraging to see what the re- 
sult of two hundred and eighty years of democratic experience 
has been in this peaceful and prosperous Massachusetts. 
Democracy has proved here to be a safe social order — safe 
for the property of individuals, safe for the finer arts of 

20 living, safe for diffused public happiness and well-being. 

We remember gratefully in this presence that a strong 
root of Massachusetts ' liberty and prosperity was the Ger- 
man Protestantism of four centuries ago, and that another 
and fresher root of well-being for every manufacturing peo- 

25 pie, like the people of Massachusetts, has been German ap- 
plied science during the past fifty years. We hope as your 
royal highness goes homeward-bound across the restless At- 
lantic — type of the rough '^sea of storm-engendering lib- 
erty" — you may cherish a cheerful remembrance of barren 

30 but rich, strenuous but peaceful, free but self-controlled 
Massachusetts, 



INAUGURALS. 



For the significance of the difference in length and method between 
the two inaugurals, see the prefatory matter to each. 



I. 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 
First Inaugural Address. 

March 4, t86i. 

[" Mr. Lincoln was simply introduced by Senator Baker, of Oregon, 
and delivered his inaugural address. His voice had great carrying ca- 
pacity, and the vast crowd heard with ease a speech of which every 
sentence was fraught with an importance and scrutinized with an anxi- 
5 ety far beyond that of any other speech ever delivered in the United 
States. . . . The inaugural address was simple, earnest, and direct, un- 
encumbered by that rhetorical ornamentation which the American 
people have always admired as the highest form of eloquence. Those 
Northerners who had expected magniloquent periods and exaggerated 

ID outbursts of patriotism were disappointed, and as they listened in vain for 
the scream of the eagle, many grumbled at the absence of what they 
conceived to h& force. Yet the general feeling was of satisfaction, which 
grew as the address was more thoroughly studied. 

Mr. Lincoln showed in his inaugural his accurate appreciation of 

1 5 the new situation. Owing all that he had become in the world to a few 
anti-slavery speeches, elevated to the presidency by votes which really 
meant little else than hostility to slavery, what was more natural than 
that he should at this moment revert to this great topic and make the 
old dispute the main part and real substance of his address ? But this 

20 fatal error he avoided. With unerring judgment he dwelt little on that 
momentous issue which had only just been displaced, and took his stand 
fairly upon that still more momentous one which had so newly come 
up. He spoke for the Union ; upon that basis a united North ought 
to support him; upon that basis the more northern of the slave States 

25 might remain loyal. As a matter of fact Union had suddenly become 
the real issue, but it needed at the hands of the President to be publicly 
and explicitly announced as such ; his recognition was essential ; he 
gave it on this earliest opportunity, and the announcement was the 
first great service of the new Republican ruler. It seems now as though 

30 he could hardly have done otherwise or have fallen into the error of 
allying himself with bygone or false issues. It may be admitted that he 
could not have passed this new one by ; but the important matter was 

227 



228 Inaugurals. 



that of proportion and relation, and in this it was easy to blunder. In 
truth it was a crisis when blundering was so easy that nearly all the 
really able men of the North had been doing it badly for three or four 
months past, and not a few of them were going to continue it for two 
or three months to come. Therefore, the sound conception of the 5 
inaugural deserves to be considered as an indication, one among many, 
of Lincoln's capacity for seeing with entire distinctness the great main 
fact, and for recognizing it as such. Other matters, which lay over and 
around such a fact, side issues, questions of detail, affairs of disguise or 
deception, never confused or misled him. He knew with unerring accu- 10 
racy where the biggest fact lay, and he always anchored fast to it and 
stayed with it. For many years he had been anchored to anti-slavery ; 
now, in the face of the nation, he shifted his anchorage to the Union; 
and each time he held securely." Abraham Lincoln, John T. Morse, Jr., 
I, 220-228. 15 

Fellow-citizens of the United States : In compliance 
with a custom as old as the government itself, I appear before 
you to address you briefly, and to take in your presence the 
oath prescribed by the Constitution of the United States to 
be taken by the President " before he enters on the execu- 20 
tion of his office." 

I do not consider it necessary at present for me to discuss 
those matters of administration about which there is no 
special anxiety or excitement. 

Apprehension seems to exist among the people of the 25 
Southern States that by the accession of a Republican ad- 
ministration their property and their peace and personal 
security are to be endangered. There has never been any 
reasonable cause for such apprehension. Indeed, the most 
ample evidence to the contrary has all the while existed and 30 
been open to their inspection. It is found in nearly all the 
published speeches of him who now addresses you. I do 
but quote from one of those speeches when I declare that 
" I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to interfere with 
the institution of slavery in the States where it exists. I 35 
believe I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no in- 
clination to do so." Those who nominated and elected me 
did so with full knowledge that I had made this and many 



Abraham Lincoln. 229 

similar declarations^ and had never recanted them. And, 
more than this, they placed in the platform for my accept- 
ance, and as a law to themselves and to me, the clear and 
emphatic resolution which I now read : 

5 " Resolved, That the maintenance inviolate of the rights of the States, 
and especially the right of each State to order and control its own do- 
mestic institutions according to its own judgment exclusively, is essen- 
tial to that balance of power on which the perfection and endurance of 
our political fabric depend, and we denounce the lawless invasion by 
10 armed force of the soil of any State or Territory, no matter under what 
pretext, as among the gravest of crimes." 

I now reiterate these sentiments; and, in doing so, I only 
press upon the public attention the most conclusive evidence 
of which the case is susceptible, that the property, peace, 

15 and security of no section are to be in any wise endangered 
by the now incoming administration. I add, too, that all the 
protection which, consistently with the Constitution and the 
laws, can be given, will be cheerfully given to all the States 
when lawfully demanded, for whatever cause — as cheerfully 

20 to one section as to another. 

There is much controversy about the delivering up of 
fugitives from service or labor. The clause I now read is 
as plainly written in the Constitution as any other of its 
provisions : 

25 "No person held to service or labor in one State, under the laws 
thereof, escaping into another, shall in consequence of any law or regu- 
lation therein be discharged from such service or labor, but shall be 
delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may 
be due." 

30 It is scarcely questioned that this provision was intended 
by those who made it for the reclaiming of what we call 
fugitive slaves ; and the intention of the lawgiver is the law. 
All members of Congress swear their support to the whole 
Constitution — to this provision as much as to any other. 

35 To the proposition, then, that slaves whose cases come 
within the terms of this clause " shall be delivered up," their 



230 Inaugurals. 

oaths are unanimous. Now, if they would make the effort 
in good temper, could they not with nearly equal unanimity 
frame and pass a law by means of which to keep good that 
unanimous oath ? 

There is some difference of opinion whether this clause 5 
should be enforced by national or by State authority ; but 
surely that difference is not a very material one. If the 
slave is to be surrendered, it can be of but little consequence 
to him or to others by which authority it is done. And 
should any one in any case be content that his oath shall go 10 
unkept on a merely unsubstantial controversy as to how it 
shall be kept ? 

Again, in any law upon this subject, ought not all the 
safeguards of liberty known in civilized and humane juris- 
prudence to be introduced, so that a free man be not, in any 15 
case, surrendered as a slave ? And might it not be well at 
the same time to provide by law for the enforcement of that 
clause in the Constitution which guarantees that " the citizen 
of each State shall be entitled to all privileges and immu- 
nities of citizens in the several States " ? 20 

I take the official oath to-day with no mental reservations, 
and with no purpose to construe the Constitution or laws by 
any hypercritical rules. And while I do not choose now to 
specify particular acts of Congress as proper to be enforced, 
I do suggest that it will be much safer for all, both in official 25 
and private stations, to conform to and abide by all those 
acts which stand unrepealed, than to violate any of them, 
trusting to find impunity in having them held to be uncon- 
stitutional. 

It is seventy-two years since the first inauguration of a 30 
President under our National Constitution. During that 
period fifteen different and greatly distinguished citizens 
have, in succession, administered the executive branch of m 
the government. They have conducted it through many ^\ 
perils, and generally with great success. Yet, with all this 35 
scope of precedent, I now enter upon the same task for the 



Abraham Lincoln. 231 

brief constitutional term of four years under great and pecu- 
liar difficulty. A disruption of the Federal Union, heretofore 
only menaced, is now formidably attempted. 

I hold that, in contemplation of universal law and of the 
5 Constitution, the Union of these States is perpetual. Per- 
petuity is implied, if not expressed, in the fundamental law 
of all national governments. It is safe to assert that no 
government proper ever had a provision in its organic law 
for its own termination. Continue to execute all the express 

10 provisions of our National Constitution, and the Union will 
endure forever — it being impossible to destroy it except by 
some action not provided for in the instrument itself. 

Again, if the United States be not a government proper, 
but an association of States in the nature of contract merely, 

15 can it, as a contract, be peaceably unmade by less than all 
the parties who made it ? One party to a contract may violate 
it — break it, so to speak ; but does it not require all to law- 
fully rescind it ? 

Descending from these general principles, we find the 

20 proposition that, in legal contemplation, the Union is perpetual, 
confirmed by the history of the Union itself. The Union is 
much older than the Constitution. It was formed, in fact, by 
the Articles of Association in 1774. It was matured and con- 
tinued by the Declaration of Independence in 1776. It was 

25 further matured, and the faith of all the then thirteen States 
expressly plighted and engaged that it should be perpetual, by 
the Articles of Confederation in 1778. And, finally, in 1787 
one of the declared objects for ordaining and establishing 
the Constitution was " to form a more perfect Union." 

30 But if the destruction of the Union by one or by a part only 
of the States be lawfully possible, the Union is less perfect 
than before the Constitution, having lost the vital element of 
perpetuity. 

It follows from these views that no State upon its own mere 

35 motion can lawfully get out of the Union ; that resolves and 
ordinances to that effect are legally void ; and that acts of 



232 Inaugurals. 

violence, within any State or States, against the authority of 
the United States, are insurrectionary or revolutionary, accord- 
ing to circumstances. 

I therefore consider that, in view of the Constitution and 
the laws, the Union is unbroken ; and to the extent of my 5 
ability I shall take care, as the Constitution itself expressly 
enjoins upon me, that the laws of the Union be faithfully 
executed in all the States. Doing this I deem to be only a 
simple duty on my part ; and I shall perform it so far as 
practicable, unless my rightful masters, the American people, 10 
shall withhold the requisite means, or in some authoritative 
manner direct the contrary. I trust this will not be regarded 
as a menace, but only as the declared purpose of the Union 
that it will constitutionally defend and maintain itself. 

In doing this there needs to be no bloodshed or violence; 15 
and there shall be none, unless it be forced upon the national 
authority. The power confided to me will be used to hold, 
occupy, and possess the property and places belonging to the 
government, and to collect the duties and imposts ; but be- 
yond what may be necessary for these objects, there will be 20 
no invasion, no using of force against or among the people 
anywhere. Where hostility to the United States, in any in- 
terior locality, shall be so great and universal as to prevent 
competent resident citizens from holding the Federal offices, 
there will be no attempt to force obnoxious strangers among 25 
the people for that object. While the strict legal right may 
exist in the government to enforce the exercise of these 
offices, the attempt to do so would be so irritating, and so 
nearly impracticable withal, that I deem it better to forego 
for the time the uses of such offices. 30 

The mails, unless repelled, will continue to be furnished in 
all parts of the Union. So far as possible, the people every- 
where shall have that sense of perfect security which is most 
favorable to calm thought and reflection. The course here 
indicated will be followed unless current events and experi- 35 
ence shall show a modification or change to be proper, and in 



Abraham Lincoln. 233 

every case and exigency my best discretion will be exercised 
according to circumstances actually existing, and with a view 
and a hope of a peaceful solution of the national troubles and 
the restoration of fraternal sympathies and affections. 

5 That there are persons in one section or another who seek 
to destroy the Union at all events, and are glad of any pre- 
text to do it, I will neither affirm nor deny ; but if there be 
such, I need address no word to them. To those, however, 
who really love the Union may I not speak ? 

10 Before entering upon so grave a matter as the destruction of 
our national fabric, with all its benefits, its memories, and its 
hopes, would it not be wise to ascertain precisely why we do 
it ? Will you hazard so desperate a step while there is any 
possibility that any portion of the ills you fly from have no 

1 5 real existence ? Will you, while the certain ills you fly to are 
greater than all the real ones you fly from — will you risk the 
commission of so fearful a mistake ? 

All profess to be content in the Union if all constitutional 
rights can be maintained. Is it true, then, that any right, 

20 plainly written in the Constitution, has been denied ? I think 
not. Happily the human mind is so constituted that no party 
can reach to the audacity of doing this. Think, if you can, 
of a single instance in which a plainly written provision of 
the Constitution has ever been denied. If by the mere force 

25 of numbers a majority should deprive a minority of any 
clearly written constitutional right, it might, in a moral point 
of view, justify revolution — certainly would if such a right 
were a vital one. But such is not our case. All the vital 
rights of minorities and of individuals are so plainly assured 

30 to them by affirmations and negations, guarantees and pro- 
hibitions, in the Constitution, that controversies never arise 
concerning them. But no organic law can ever be framed 
with a provision specifically applicable to every question 
which may occur in practical administration. No foresight 

35 can anticipate, nor any document of reasonable length con- 
tain, express provisions for all possible questions. Shall 



^34 Inaugurals. 



fugitives from labor be surrendered by national or by State 
authority ? The Constitution does not expressly say. May 
Congress prohibit slavery in the Territories ? The Consti- 
tution does not expressly say. Must Congress protect sla- 
very in the Territories ? The Constitution does not expressly 5 
say. 

From questions of this class spring all our constitutional 
controversies, and we divide upon them into majorities and 
minorities. If the minority will not acquiesce, the majority 
must, or the government must cease. There is no other 10 
alternative ; for continuing the government is acquiescence 
on one side or the other. 

If a minority in such case will secede rather than acqui- 
esce, they make a precedent which in turn will divide and 
ruin them ; for a minority of their own will secede from them 1 5 
whenever a majority refuses to be controlled by such minor- 
ity. For instance, why may not any portion of a new con- 
federacy a year or two hence arbitrarily secede again, 
precisely as portions of the present Union now claim to 
secede from it? All who cherish disunion sentiments are 20 
now being educated to the exact temper of doing this. 

Is there such perfect identity of interests among the 
States to compose a new Union, as to produce harmony only, 
and prevent renewed secession ? 

Plainly, the central idea of secession is the essence of 25 
anarchy. A majority held in restraint by constitutional 
checks and limitations, and always changing easily with de- 
liberate changes of popular opinions and sentiments, is the 
only true sovereign of a free people. Whoever rejects it 
does, of necessity, fly to anarchy or to despotism. Una- 3° 
nimity is impossible ; the rule of a minority, as a permanent 
arrangement, is wholly inadmissible; so that, rejecting the 
majority principle, anarchy or despotism in some form is all 
that is left. 

I do not forget the position, assumed by some, that con- 35 
stitutional questions are to be decided by the Supreme Court ; 



Abraham Lincoln. 237 

seen — has passed Congress, to the effect that the Federal 
Government shall never interfere with the domestic institu- 
tions of the States, including that of persons held to service. 
To avoid misconstruction of what I have said, I depart from 
5 my purpose not to speak of particular amendments so far as 
to say that, holding such a provision to now be implied con- 
stitutional law, I have no objection to its being made ex- 
press and irrevocable. 

The chief magistrate derives all his authority from the 

10 people, and they have conferred none upon him to fix terms 
for the separation of the States. The people themselves can 
do this also if they choose ; but the executive, as such, has 
nothing to do with it. His duty is to administer the present 
government, as it came to his hands, and to transmit it, unim- 

15 paired by him, to his successor. 

Why should there not be a patient confidence in the ulti- 
mate justice of the people ? Is there any better or equal hope 
in the world ? In our present differences is either party with- 
out faith of being in the right ? If the Almighty Ruler of 

20 Nations, with his eternal truth and justice, be on your side of 
the North, or on yours of the South, that truth and that jus- 
tice will surely prevail by the judgment of this great tribunal 
of the American people. 

By the frame of the government under which we live, this 

25 same people have wisely given their public servants but little 
power for mischief ; and have, with equal wisdom, provided 
for the return of that little to their own hands at very short 
intervals. While the people retain their virtue and vigilance, 
no administration, by any extreme of wickedness or folly, can 

30 very seriously injure the government in the short space of 
four years. 

My countrymen, one and all, think calmly and well upon 
this whole subject. Nothing valuable can be lost by taking 
time. If there be an object to hurry any of you in hot haste 

35 to a step which you would never take deliberately, that object 
will be frustrated by taking time ; but no good object can be 



238 Inaugurals. 

frustrated by it. Such of you as are now dissatisfied, still 
have the old Constitution unimpaired, and, on the sensitive 
point, the laws of your own framing under it ; while the new 
administration will have no immediate power, if it would, to 
change either. If it were admitted that you who are dis- 5 
satisfied hold the right si'de in the dispute, there still is no 
single good reason for precipitate action. Intelligence, pa- 
triotism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on Him who has 
never yet forsaken this favored land, are still competent to 
adjust in the best way all our present difficulty. 10 

In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not 
in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The govern- 
ment will not assail you. You can have no conflict without 
being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered 
in heaven to destroy the government, while I shall have the 1 5 
most solemn one to " preserve, protect, and defend it." 

I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We 
must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it 
must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of 
memory, stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave 20 
to every living heart and hearth-stone all over this broad 
land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again " 
touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our 
nature. 



II. 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

Second Inaugural Address. 

March 4, 186^. 

[" The ' Second Inaugural ' — a written composition, though read to 25 
the citizens from the steps of the Capitol — well illustrates our words. 
Mr. Lincoln had to tell his countrymen that, after a four years' struggle, 
the war was practically ended, The four years' agony, the passion of 



Abraham Lincoln. 239 

love which he felt for his country, his joy in her salvation, his sense of 
tenderness for those who fell, of pity mixed with sternness for the men 
who had deluged the land with blood — all the thoughts these f eehngs 
inspired were behind Lincoln pressing for expression. A writer of less 
5 power would have been ovei-w^helmed. Lincoln remained master of the 
emotional and intellectual situation. In three or four hundred words 
that burn with the heat of their compression, he tells the history of the 
war and reads its lesson. No nobler thoughts were ever conceived. 
No man ever found words more adequate to his desire. Here is the 

10 whole tale of the nation's shame and misery, of her heroic struggles to 
free herself therefrom, and of her victory. Had Lincoln written a hun- 
dred times as much more, he would not have said more fully what he 
desired to say. Every thought receives its complete expression, and 
there is no word employed which does not directly and manifestly con- 

15 tribute to the development of the central thought." — The Spectator^ 
London, May 2, i8gi.] 

" I expect it," [Mr. Lincoln] said, " to wear as well as, perhaps better 
than, anything I have produced ; but I believe it is not immediately 
popular. Men are not flattered by being shown that there has been a 

20 difference of purpose between the Almighty and them. To deny it, 
however, in this case is to deny that there is a God governing the world. 
It is a truth which I thought needed to be told ; and as whatever of 
humiliation there is in it falls most directly on myself, I thought others 
might afford for me to tell it." Abraham Lincoln, John T. Morse, Jr., 

25 11,314-315. 

Fellow-Countrymen : At this second appearing to take the 
oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an 
extended address than there was at the first. Then a state- 
ment, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed 

30 fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, 
during which public declarations have been constantly 
called forth on every point and phase of the great contest 
which still absorbs the attention and engrosses the energies 
of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The 

35 progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is 

as well known to the public as to myself ; and it is, I trust, 

reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high 

hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured. 

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all 

40 thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil 



240 Inaugurals. 



war. All dreaded it — all sought to avert it. While the 
inaugural address was being delivered from this place, de- 
voted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent 
agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without 
war — seeking to dissolve the Union, and divide effects, by 5 
negotiation. Both parties deprecated war ; but one of them 
would make war rather than let the nation survive ; and the 
other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the 
war came. 

One-eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, 10 
not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in 
the Southern part of it. These slaves constituted a pecu- 
liar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, 
somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, 
and extend this interest was the object for which the insur- 15 
gents would rend the Union, even by war ; while the govern- 
ment claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territo- 
rial enlargement of it. 

Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the 
duration which it has already attained. Neither anticipated 20 
that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even be- 
fore, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an 
easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astound- 
ing. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God ; 
and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem 25 
strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assist- 
ance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's 
faces; but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The 
prayers of both could not be answered — that of neither has 
been answered fully. 30 

The Almighty has His own purposes. " Woe unto the 
world because of offenses ! for it must needs be that offenses 
come ; but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh." 
If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those of- 
fenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, 35 
but which, having continued through His appointed time. He 



Abraham Lincoln. 241 

now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and 
South this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom 
the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure 
from those divine attributes which the believers in a living 
5 God always ascribe to Him ? Fondly do we hope — fervently 
do we pray — that this mighty scourge of war may speedily 
pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the 
wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years 
of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of 

10 blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn 
with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still 
it must be said, " The judgments of the Lord are true and 
righteous altogether." 

With malice toward none ; with charity for all ; with firm- 

15 ness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us 
strive on to finish the work we are in ; to bind up the na- 
tion's wounds ; to care for him who shall have borne the 
battle, and for his widow, and his orphan — to do all which 
may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among 

20 ourselves, and with all nations. 



SPEECHES OF FAREWELL, 



No. I exemplifies work of the speaker by practice skilled in selection 
of a central idea and application of it to a permanent interest of his 
audience, sure in phrase, and able to confine his treatment of his topic 
within the smallest possible limits. No. II is work of the untrained, 
perturbed speaker struggling to express his conflicting emotions, which 
in its simple honest phrasing conveys not only his message but his 
emotional state. 



John Brown. 247 

II. 
JOHN BROWN. 
Last Speech at Charlestown, West Va. 

November 2^ 18 jg. 

[John Brown, after his capture during his foray on the armory at 
Harper's Ferry, in October, 1859, was taken to Charlestown, nearby, 
for trial. He was charged with conspiring with negroes to produce 
insurrection, with treason to the Commonwealth, and murder. During 
5 the greater part of the trial, Brown lay on a cot -bed, weak, haggard, 
suffering from his wounds. " When the verdict was read, ' Guilty of 
treason, and of conspiracy and advising with slaves and others to rebel, 
and of murder in the first degree ' — Brown said nothing, but as on any 
previous day turned to adjust his pallet, and then composedly stretched 

10 himself upon it. A motion for an arrest of judgment was put in, but 
counsel on both sides being too much exhausted to go on, Brown was 
removed unsentenced to prison. . . . When brought into court, the day 
after his conviction, to receive his sentence. Brown was taken by sur- 
prise at being called on to say why sentence of death should not be 

15 pronounced. He had expected some further delay, and was unprepared 
at the moment. He rose, however, and in a singularly mild and gentle 
manner made his famous plea." In a letter to a friend later he said : 
" In the hurry of the moment I forgot much that I had before intended 
to say, and did not consider the full bearing of what I then said." Life 

20 and Letters of John Brown, F. B. Sanborn, pp. 583-84.] 

I have, may it please the Court, a few words to say. 
In the first place, I deny everything but what I have all 
along admitted, of a design on my part to free the slaves. 
I intended certainly to have made a clean thing of that mat- 

25 ter, as I did last winter when I went into Missouri, and there 
took slaves without the snapping of a gun on either side, 
moving them through the country, and finally leaving them in 
Canada. I designed to have done the same thing again on a 
larger scale. That was all I intended to do. I never did in- 

30 tend murder or treason, or the destruction of property, or to 
excite or incite the slaves to rebellion, or to make insurrection. 



248 Speeches of Farewell. 

I have another objection : and that is that it is unjust 
that I should suffer such a penalty. Had I interfered in the 
manner which I admit, and which I admit has been fairly- 
proved — for I admire the truthfulness and candor of the 
greater portion of the witnesses who have testified in this 5 
case — had I so interfered in behalf of the rich, the power- 
ful, the intelligent, the so-called great, or in behalf of any of 
their friends, either father, mother, brother, sister, wife or 
children, or any of that class, and suffered and sacrificed 
what I would have in this interference, it would have been 10 
all right ; and every man in this Court would have deemed 
it an act worthy of reward rather than punishment. This 
Court acknowledges, too, as I suppose, the validity of the 
law of God. I see a book kissed, which I suppose to be 
the Bible, or at least the New Testament, which teaches me 15 
that all things whatsoever I would that men should do unto 
me, I should do even so unto them. It teaches me further 
to remember them that are in bonds as bound with them. I 
endeavored to act up to that instruction. I say I am yet too 
young to understand that God is any respecter of persons. 20 
I believe that to have interfered as I have done, as I have 
always freely admitted I have done in behalf of His despised ■ 
poor is no wrong, but right. Now, if it is deemed necessary ^ 
that I should forfeit my life for the furtherance of the ends 
of justice, and mingle my blood further with the blood of my 25 
children and with the blood of millions in this slave country 
whose rights are disregarded by wicked, cruel, and unjust 
enactments, I say let it be done. Let me say one word fur- 
ther. I feel entirely satisfied with the treatment I have re- 
ceived on my trial. Considering all the circumstances, it 30 
has been more generous than I expected. But I feel no 
consciousness of guilt. I have stated from the first what 
was my intention, and what was not. I never had any 
design against the liberty of any person, nor any disposition 
to excite slaves to rebel or make any general insurrection. I 35 
never encouraged any man to do so, but always discouraged 



I 

II 



1 



John Brown. 249 

any idea of that kind. Let me say also in regard to the 
statements made by some of those who were connected with 
me, I fear it has been stated by some of them that I have 
induced them to join me, but the contrary is true. I do not 
say this to injure them but as regretting their weakness. 
Not one but joined me of his own accord, and the greater 
part at their own expense. A number of them I never saw, 
and never had a word of conversation with till the day they 
came to me, and that was for the purpose I have stated. 
Now, I am done. 



ADDRESSES 

FOR 

ACADEMIC OCCASIONS. 



The addresses of Phillips and Curtis may well be contrasted as un- 
usually fine specimens of the higher discussion and controversy which 
is much more common than rigid debate. In No. I the means should 
be examined by which a conservative audience was led to delighted 
acceptance of sentiments from which on second thought it shrank. 



WENDELL PHILLIPS. 
The Scholar in a Republic.^ 

Address at the Centeniiial Anniversary of the 

Phi Beta Kappa of Harvard College. 

June JO, 1881. 

[" Wendell Phillips received an invitation to deliver the Centennial Phi 
Beta Kappa oration in the summer of 1881. 

' When I knew that Wendell Phillips was to give the Phi Beta 
Kappa oration at Cambridge, I was very curious to know what course he 
would take. I said, ' He has two opportunities, neither of which he has 
ever had before. He has always spoken to the people. Now he is 
invited to address scholars. He has an opportunity to show, that, when 
he chooses to do it, he can be the peer of Everett or Sumner on their 
own platform of high culture. He can leave behind personalities, forget 
for the hour his hatreds and enmities, and meet all his old opponents 
peacefully, in the still air of delightful studies. This is an opportunity 
he has never had before, and probably will never have again.' 

' But there is another and different opportunity now offered him. 
Now, for the first and only time, he will have face to face before him 
the representatives of that Cambridge culture which has had little sym- 
pathy with his past labors. He can tell them how backward they were 
in the old Anti-Slavery contest, and how reluctant to take part in any 
later reforms. If he has been bitter before, he can be ten times as bit- 
ter now. He can make this the day of judgment for the sins of half 
a century. This opportunity, also, is unique. It will never come again. 
Can he resist this temptation, or not ? ' 

' It never occurred to me that he would accept and use both oppor- 
tunities, but he did so. He gave an oration of great power and beauty, 
full of strong thoughts and happy illustrations, not unworthy of any uni- 
versity platform or academic scholar. It was nearly, though not wholly, 
free from personalities ; but it was also one long rebuke for the recreant 
scholarship of Cambridge. ' " Rev. J. F. Clarke. Quoted pp. 342-343 
of G. L. Austin's Life of Wendell Phillips. 

^ Reprinted by permission of Lee & Shepard from Speeches, Lecttcres 
and Letters, Wendell Phillips. Second Series, pp. 331-363. 

253 



254 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

" He had never seemed more at his ease, more colloquial, more 
thoroughly extemporaneous, than in his address in later life before the 
Phi Beta Kappa Society in Cambridge ; yet it had all been sent to the 
Boston daily papers in advance and appeared with scarcely a word's 
variation, except where he had been compelled to omit some passages 5 
for want of time. That was, in some respects, the most remarkable 
effort of his life ; it was a tardy recognition of him by his own college 
and his own literary society ; and he held an unwilling audience spell- 
bound, while bating absolutely nothing of his radicalism. Many a 
respectable lawyer or divine felt his blood run cold, the next day, when 10 
he found that the fascinating orator whom he had applauded to the echo 
had really made the assassination of an emperor seem as trivial as the 
doom of a mosquito." Contemporaries, T. W. Higginson, p. 270.] 

Mr. President and Brothers of the P, B. K. : A 
hundred years ago our society was planted — ^^a slip from the ^5 
older root in Virginia. The parent seed, tradition says, was 
French, — part of that conspiracy for free speech whose 
leaders prated democracy in the salons, while they carefully 
held on to the flesh-pots of society by crouching low to kings 
and their mistresses, and whose final object of assault was 20 
Christianity itself. Voltaire gave the watchword, — 

" Crush the wretch." 

'■'■ Ecrasez Vinfame^'' 

No matter how much or how little truth there may be in the 
tradition : no matter what was the origin or what was the 25 
object of our society, if it had any special one, both are long 
since forgotten. We stand now simply a representative of 
free, brave, American scholarship. I emphasize Ainerican 
scholarship. 

In one of those glowing, and as yet unequalled pictures 30 
which Everett drew for us, here and elsewhere, of Revolu- 
tionary scenes, I reriiembef his saying, that the independence 
we then won, if taken in its literaland narrow sense, was of 
no interest and little value ; but, construed in the fulness of 
its real meaning, it bound us to a distinctive American char- 35 
acter and purpose, to a keen sense of large responsibility, 
and to a generous self-devotion. It is under the shadow of 



Wendell Phillips. 255 

such unquestioned authority that I used the term "American 
scholarship. " 

Our society was, no doubt, to some extent, a protest 

against the sombre theology of New England, where, a 

5 hundred years ago, the atmosphere was black with sermons, 

and where religious speculation beat uselessly against the 

narrowest limits. 

The first generation of Puritans — though Lowell does let 
Cromwell call them " a small colony of pinched fanatics " — 

10 included some men, indeed not a few, worthy to walk close to 
Roger Williams and Sir Harry Vane, the two men deepest in 
thought and bravest in speech of all who spoke English in 
their day, and equal to any in practical statesmanship. Sir 
Harry Vane — in my judgment the noblest human being who 

15 ever walked the streets of yonder city — I do not forget Frank- 
lin or Sam Adams, Washington or Fayette, Garrison or John 
Brown. But Vane dwells an arrow's flight above them all, 
and his touch consecrated the continent to measureless tolera- 
tion of opinion and entire equality of rights. We are told we 

20 can find in Plato " all the intellectual life of Europe for two 
thousand years: " so you can find in Vane the pure gold of 
two hundred and fifty years of American civilization, with no 
particle of its dross. Plato would have welcomed him to the 
Academy, and Fenelon kneeled with him at the altar. He 

25 made Somers and John Marshall possible ; like Carnot, he 
organized victory ; and Milton pales before him in the stain- 
lessness of his record. He stands among English statesmen 
pre-eminently the representative, in practice and in theory, of 
serene faith in the safety of trusting truth wholly to her own 

30 defence. For other men we walk backward, and throw over 
their memories the mantle of charity and excuse, saying rev- 
erently, " Remember the temptation and the age." But 
Vane's ermine has no stain ; no act of his needs explanation 
or apology ; and in thought he stands abreast of our age, — 

35 like pure intellect, belongs to all time. 

Carlyle said, in years when his words were worth heeding, 



256 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

*' Young men, close your Byron, and open your Goethe." If 
my counsel had weight in these halls, I should say, " Young 
men, close your John Winthrop and Washington, your Jeffer- 
son and Webster, and open Sir Harry Vane." The genera- 
tion that knew Vane gave to our Alma Mater for a seal the 5 
simple pledge, — Veritas. 

But the narrowness and poverty of colonial life soon 
starved out this element. Harvard was re-dedicated Christo 
et Ecdesice ; and, up to the middle of the last century, free 
thought in religion meant Charles Chauncy and the Brattle- 10 
street Church protest, while free thought hardly existed any- 
where else. But a single generation changed all this. A 
hundred years ago there were pulpits that led the popular 
movement ; while outside of religion and of what called 
itself literature, industry and a jealous sense of personal free- 15 
dom obeyed, in their rapid growth, the law of their natures. 
English common sense and those municipal institutions born 
of the common law, and which had saved and sheltered it, 
grew inevitably too large for the eggshell of English depen- 
dence, and allowed it to drop off as naturally as the chick 20 
does when she is ready. There was no change of law, — 
nothing that could properly be called revolution, — only noise- 
less growth, the seed bursting into flower, infancy becoming 
manhood. It was life, in its omnipotence, rending whatever 
dead matter confined it. So have I seen the tiny weeds of 25 
a luxuriant Italian spring upheave the colossal foundations 
of the Caesars' palace, and .leave it a mass of ruins. 

But when the veil was withdrawn, what stood revealed 
astonished the world. It showed the undreamt power, the 
serene strength, of simple manhood, free from the burden 30 
and restraint of absurd institutions in church and state. 
The grandeur of this new Western constellation gave cour- 
age to Europe, resulting in the French Revolution, the great- 
est, the most unmixed, the most unstained and wholly perfect 
blessing Europe has had in modern times, unless we may possi- 35 
bly except the Reformation, and the invention of Printing. 



Wendell Phillips. 257 

What precise effect that giant wave had when it struck our 
shore we can only guess. History is, for the most part, an 
idle amusement, the day-dream of pedants and triflers. The 
details of events, the actors' motives, and their relation to 
5 each other, are buried with them. How impossible to learn 
the exact truth of what took place yesterday under your next 
neighbor's roof ! Yet we complacently argue and speculate 
about matters a thousand miles off, and a thousand years 
ago, as if we knew them. When I was a student here, my 

10 favorite study was history. The world and affairs have 
shown me that one-half of history is loose conjecture, and 
much of the rest is the writer's opinion. But most men see 
facts, not with their eyes, but with their prejudices. Any 
one familiar with courts will testify how rare it is for an 

15 honest man to give a perfectly correct account of a transac- 
tion. We are tempted to see facts as we think they ought to 
be, or wish they were. And yet journals are the favorite 
original sources of history. Tremble, my good friend, if your 
sixpenny neighbor keeps a journal. "It adds a new terror 

20 to death." You shall go down to your children not in your 
fair lineaments and proportions, but with the smirks, elbows, 
and angles he sees you with. Journals are excellent to re- 
cord the depth of the last snow and the date when the May- 
flower opens ; but when you come to men's motives and 

25 characters, journals are the magnets that get near the chro- 
nometer of history and make all its records worthless. You 
can count on the fingers of your two hands all the robust 
minds that ever kept journals. Only milksops and fribbles 
indulge in that amusement, except now and then a respecta- 

30 ble mediocrity. One such journal nightmares New-England 
annals, emptied into history by respectable middle-aged gen- 
tlemen, who fancy that narrowness and spleen, like poor 
wine, mellow into truth when they get to be a century old. 
But you might as well cite " The Daily Advertiser " of 1850 

35 as authority on one of Garrison's actions. 

And, after all, of what value are these minutiae ? Whether 



258 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

Luther's zeal was partly kindled by lack of gain from the sale 
of indulgences, whether Boston rebels were half smugglers 
and half patriots, what matters it now? Enough that he 
meant to wrench the gag from Europe's lips, and that they 
were content to suffer keenly, that we might have an untram- 5 
melled career. We can only hope to discover the great 
currents and massive forces which have shaped our lives : 
all else is trying to solve a problem of whose elements we 
know nothing. As the poet historian of the last generation 
says so plaintively, " History comes like a beggarly gleaner 10 
in the field, after Death, the great lord of the domain, has 
gathered the harvest, and lodged it in his garner, which no 
man may open." 

But we may safely infer that French debate and experi- 
ence broadened and encouraged our fathers. To that we 15 
undoubtedly owe, in some degree, the theoretical perfection, 
ingrafted on English practical sense and old forms, which 
marks the foundation of our republic. English civil life, up 
to that time, grew largely out of custom, rested almost 
wholly on precedent. For our model there was no authority 20 
in the record, no precedent on the file ; unless you find it, 
perhaps, partially, in that Long Parliament bill with which 
Sir Harry Vane would have outgeneralled Cromwell, if the 
shameless soldier had not crushed it with his muskets. 

Standing on Saxon foundations, and inspired, perhaps, in 25 
some degree, by Latin example, we have done what no 
race, no nation, no age, had before dared even to try. We 
have founded a republic on the unlimited suffrage of the 
millions. We have actually worked out the problem that 
man, as God created him, may be trusted with self-govern- 30 
ment. We have shown the world that a church without a 
bishop, and a state without a king, is an actual, real, every- 
day possibility. Look back over the history of the race : 
where will you find a chapter that precedes us in that 
achievement ? Greece had her republics, but they were the 35 
republics of a few freemen and subjects and many slaves; 



Wendell Phillips. 259 

and "the battle of Marathon was fought by slaves, un- 
chained from the doorposts of their masters' houses." Italy 
had her republics : they were the republics of wealth and 
skill and family, limited and aristocratic. The Swiss repub- 
5 lies were groups of cousins. Holland had her republic, — a 
republic of guilds and landholders, trusting the helm of state 
to property and education. And all these, which, at their 
best, held but a million or two within their narrow limits, 
have gone down in the ocean of time. 

10 A hundred years ago our fathers announced this sublime, 
and, as it seemed then, foolhardy declaration, that God in- 
tended all men to be free and equal, — all men, without 
restriction, without qualification, without limit. A hundred 
years have rolled away since that venturous declaration; 

15 and to-day, with a territory that joins ocean to ocean, with 
fifty millions of people, with two wars behind her, with the 
grand achievement of having grappled with the fearful dis- 
ease that threatened her central life, and broken four millions 
of fetters, the great republic, stronger than ever, launches 

20 into the second century of her existence. The history of the 
world has no such chapter in its breadth, its depth, its sig- 
nificance, or its bearing on future history. 

What Wycliffe did for religion, Jefferson and Sam Adams 
did for the State, — they trusted it to the people. He gave 

25 the masses the Bible, the right to think. Jefferson and 
Sam Adams gave them the ballot, the right to rule. His 
intrepid advance contemplated theirs as its natural, inevitable 
result. Their serene faith completed the gift which the 
Anglo-Saxon race makes to humanity. We have not only 

30 established a new measure of the possibilities of the race : 
we have laid on strength, wisdom, and skill a new responsi- 
bility. Grant that each man's relations to God and his 
neighbor are exclusively his own concern, and that he is 
entitled to all the aid that will make him the best judge of 

35 these relations ; that the people are the source of all power, 
and their measureless capacity the lever of all progress ; 



26o Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

their sense of right the court of final appeal in civil affairs ; 
the institutions they create the only ones any power has a 
right to impose ; that the attempt of one class to prescribe 
the law, the religion, the morals, or the trade of another is 
both unjust and harmful, — and the Wycliffe and Jefferson 5 
of history mean this if they mean anything, — then, when, in 
1867, Parliament doubled the English franchise, Robert 
Lowe was right in affirming, amid the cheers of the House, 
" Now the first interest and duty of every EngHshman is to 
educate the masses — our masters." Then, whoever sees 10 
farther than his neighbor is that neighbor's servant to hft him 
to such higher level. Then, power, ability, influence, char- 
acter, virtue, are only trusts with which to serve our time. 

We all agree in the duty of scholars to help those less 
favored in Hfe, and that this duty of scholars to educate the 15 
mass is still more imperative in a republic, since a republic 
trusts the state wholly to the intelligence and moral sense of 
the people. The experience of the last forty years shows 
every man that law has no atom of strength, either in Boston 
or New Orleans, unless, and only so far as, public opinion 20 
indorses it, and that your life, goods, and good name rest on 
the moral sense, self-respect, and law-abiding mood of the 
men that walk the streets, and hardly a whit on the provis- 
ions of the statute-book. Come, any one of you, outside of 
the ranks of popular men, and you will not fail to find it so. 25 
Easy men dream that we live under a government of law. 
Absurd mistake ! we live under a government of men and 
newspapers. Your first attempt to stem dominant and keenly- 
cherished opinions will reveal this to you. 

But what is education ? Of course it is not book-learning. 30 
Book-learning does not make five per cent of that mass of 
common sense that "runs " the world, transacts its business, 
secures its progress, trebles its power over nature, works out 
in the long run a rough average justice, wears away the 
world's restraints, and lifts off its burdens. The ideal 35 
Yankee, who " has more brains in his hand than others have 



Wendell Phillips, 261 

in their skulls," is not a scholar; and two-thirds of the in- 
ventions that enable France to double the world's sunshine, 
and make Old and New England the workshops of the 
world, did not come from colleges or from minds trained in 
5 the schools of science, but struggled up, forcing their way 
against giant obstacles, from the irrepressible instinct of un- 
trained natural power. Her w^orkshops, not her colleges, 
made England, for a while, the mistress of the world ; and 
the hardest job her workman had was to make Oxford will- 

10 ing he should work his wonders. 

So of moral gains. As shrewd an observer as Governor 
Marcy of New York often said he cared nothing for the 
whole press of the seaboard, representing wealth and educa- 
tion (he meant book-learning), if it set itself against the 

15 instincts of the people. Lord Brougham, in a remarkable 
comment on the life of Romilly, enlarges on the fact that the 
great reformer of the penal law found all the legislative and 
all the judicial power of England, its colleges and its bar, 
marshalled against him, and owed his success, as all such 

20 reforms do, says his lordship, to public meetings and popular 
instinct. It would be no exaggeration to say that govern- 
ment itself began in usurpation, in the feudalism of the 
soldier and the bigotry of the priest ; that liberty and civil- 
ization are only fragments of rights wrung from the strong 

25 hands of wealth and book-learning. Almost all the great 
truths relating to society were not the result of scholarly 
meditation, " hiving up wisdom with each curious year," but 
have been first heard in the solemn protests of martyred 
patriotism and the loud cries of crushed and starving labor. 

30 When common sense and the common people have stereo- 
typed a principle into a statute, then book-men come to ex- 
plain how it was discovered and on what ground it rests. 
The world makes history, and scholars write it, one half 
truly, and the other half as their prejudices blur and distort it. 

35 New England learned more of the principles of toleration 
from a lyceum committee doubting the dicta of editors and 



262 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

bishops when they forbade it to put Theodore Parker on its 
platform ; more from a debate whether the anti-slavery 
cause should be so far countenanced as to invite one of its 
advocates to lecture ; from Sumner and Emerson, George 
William Curtis, and Edwin Whipple, refusing to speak unless 5 
a negro could buy his way into their halls as freely as any 
other, — New England has learned more from these lessons 
than she has or could have done from all the treatises on 
free printing from Milton and Roger Williams, through 
Locke, down to Stuart Mill. 10 

Selden, the profoundest scholar of his day, affirmed, " No 
man is wiser for his learning ; " and that was only an echo 
of the Saxon proverb, " No fool is a perfect fool until he 
learns Latin." Bancroft says of our fathers, that " the wild- 
est theories of the human reason were reduced to practice 15 
by a community so humble that no statesman condescended 
to notice it, and a legislation without precedent was produced 
off-hand by the instincts of the people." And Wordsworth 
testifies, that, while German schools might well blush for 
their subserviency, — 20 

" A few strong instincts and a few plain rules, 
Among the herdsmen of the Alps, have wrought 
More for mankind at this unhappy day 
Than all the pride of intellect and thought." 

Wycliffe was, no doubt, a learned man. But the learning 25 
of his day would have burned him, had it dared, as it did 
burn his dead body afterwards. Luther and Melanchthon 
were scholars, but were repudiated by the scholarship of their 
time, which followed Erasmus, trying " all his life to tread 
on eggs without breaking them ; " he who proclaimed that 30 
" peaceful error was better than tempestuous truth." What 
would college-graduate Seward weigh, in any scale, against 
Lincoln bred in affairs ? 

Hence I do not think the greatest things have been done 
for the world by its book-men. Education is not the chips 35 
of arithmetic and grammar, — nouns, verbs, and the multi- 



Wendell Phillips. 263 

plication table ; neither is it that last year's almanac of 
dates, or series of lies agreed upon, which we so often mis- 
take for history. Education is not Greek and Latin and the 
air-pump. Still, I rate at its full value the training we get 
5 in these walls. Though what we actually carry away is 
little enough, we do get some training of our powers, as the 
gymnast or the fencer does of his muscles : we go hence 
also with such general knowledge of what mankind has 
agreed to consider proved and settled, that we know where 

10 to reach for the weapon when we need it. 

I have often thought the motto prefixed to his college 
library catalogue by the father of the late Professor Peirce, — 
Professor Peirce, the largest natural genius, the man of the 
deepest reach and firmest grasp and widest sympathy, that 

15 God has given to Harvard in our day, — whose presence 
made you the loftiest peak and farthest outpost of more than 
mere scientific thought, — the magnet who, with his twin 
Agassiz, made Harvard for forty years the intellectual Mecca 
of forty States, — his father's catalogue bore for a motto, 

20 ^^ Scire ubi aliquid invenias magna pars eruditionis est;'''' and 
that always seemed to me to gauge very nearly all we acquired 
at college, except facility in the use of our powers. Our in- 
fluence in the community does not really spring from supe- 
rior attainments, but from this thorough training of faculties, 

25 and more even, perhaps, from the deference men accord to 
us. 

Gibbon says we have two educations, one from teachers, 
and the other we give ourselves. This last is the real and 
only education of the masses, — one gotten from life, from 

30 affairs, from earning one's bread; necessity, the mother of 
invention ; responsibility, that teaches prudence, and inspires 
respect for right. Mark the critic out of office : how reck- 
less in assertion, how careless of consequences ; and then the 
caution, forethought, and fair play of the same man charged 

35 with administration. See that young, thoughtless wife sud- 
denly widowed ; how wary and skilful ! what ingenuity in 



264 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

guarding her child and saving his rights ! Any one who 
studied Europe forty or fifty years ago could not but have 
marked the level of talk there, far below that of our masses. 
It was of crops and rents, markets and marriages, scandal and 
fun. Watch men here, and how often you listen to the keen- 5 
est discussions of right and wrong, this leader's honesty, 
that party's justice, the fairness of this law, the impolicy of 
that measure ; — lofty, broad topics, training morals, widen- 
ing views. Niebuhr said of Italy, sixty years ago, *' No one 
feels himself a citizen. Not only are the people destitute of 10 
hope, but they have not even wishes touching the world's 
affairs ; and hence all the springs of great and noble thoughts 
are choked up." 

In this sense the Fremont campaign of 1856 taught Amer- 
icans more than a hundred colleges; and John Brown's pul- 15 
pit at Harper's Ferry was equal to any ten thousand ordinary 
chairs. God lifted a million of hearts to his gibbet, as the 
Roman cross lifted a world to itself in that divine sacrifice of 
two thousand years ago. As much as statesmanship had 
taught in our previous eighty years, that one week of intellec- 20 
tual watching and weighing and dividing truth taught twenty 
millions of people. Yet how little, brothers, can we claim 
for book-men in that uprising and growth of 1856 ! And 
while the first of American scholars could hardly find, in the 
rich vocabulary of Saxon scorn, words enough to express, 25 
amid the plaudits of his class, his loathing and contempt for 
John Brown, Europe thrilled to him as proof that our institu- 
tions had not lost all their native and distinctive life. She 
had grown tired of our parrot note and cold moonlight reflec- 
tion of older civilizations. Lansdowne and Brougham could 30 
confess to Sumner that they had never read a page of their 
cotemporary, Daniel Webster; and you spoke to vacant 
eyes when you named Prescott, fifty years ago, to average 
Europeans ; while Vienna asked, with careless indifference, 
" Seward, who is he ? " But long before our ranks marched 35 
up State Street to the John Brown song, the banks of the 



Wendell Phillips. 265 

Seine and of the Danube hailed the new life which had given 
us another and nobler Washington. Lowell foresaw him 
when forty years ago he sang of, — 

" Truth forever on the scaffold, 
5 Wrong forever on the throne; 

Yet that scaffold sways the future: 

And behind the dim unknown 
Standeth God, within the shadow, 
Keeping watch above his own." 

10 And yet the book-men, as a class, have not yet acknowledged 
him. 

It is here that letters betray their lack of distinctive Amer- 
ican character. Fifty million of men God gives us to mould ; 
burning questions, keen debate, great interests trying to vin- 

15 dicate their right to be, sad wrongs brought to the bar of 
public judgment, — these are the people's schools. Timid 
scholarship either shrinks from sharing in these agitations, or 
denounces them as vulgar and dangerous interference by in- 
competent hands with matters above them. A chronic dis- 

20 trust of the people pervades the book-educated class of the 
North ; they shrink from that free speech which is God's 
normal school for educating men, throwing upon them the 
grave responsibility of deciding great questions, and so lift- 
ing them to a higher level of intellectual and moral life. 

25 Trust the people — the wise and the ignorant, the good and 
the bad — with the gravest questions, and in the end you 
educate the race. At the same time you secure, not perfect 
institutions, not necessarily good ones, but the best institu- 
tions possible while human nature is the basis and the only 

30 material to build with. Men are educated and the state up- 
lifted by allowing all — every one — to broach all their mis- 
takes and advocate all their errors. The community that 
will not protect its most ignorant and unpopular member in 
the free utterance of his opinions, no matter how false or 

35 hateful, is only a gang of slaves ! 

Anacharsis went into the Archon's court of Athens, heard 



266 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

a case argued by the great men of that city, and saw the vote 
by five hundred men. Walking in the streets, some one 
asked him, " What do you think of Atlienian Uberty ? " "I 
think," said he, " wise men argue cases, and fools decide 
them." Just what that timid scholar, two thousand years ^ 
ago, said in the streets of Athens, that which calls itself 
scholarship here says to-day of popular agitation, — that it 
lets wise men argue questions and fools decide them. But 
that Athens where fools decided the gravest questions of 
poHcy and of right and wrong, where property you had lo 
gathered wearily to-day might be wrung from you by the 
caprice of the mob to-morrow, — that very Athens probably 
secured, for its era, the greatest amount of human happiness 
and nobleness ; invented art, and sounded for us the depths 
of philosophy. God lent to it the largest intellects, and it 15 
flashes to-day the torch that gilds yet the mountain peaks of 
the Old World : while Egypt, the hunker conservative of an- 
tiquity, where nobody dared to differ from the priest or to be 
wiser than his grandfather ; where men pretended to be alive, 
though swaddled in the grave-clothes of creed and custom 20 
as close as their mummies were in linen, — that Egypt is hid 
in the tomb it inhabited, and the intellect Athens has trained 
for us digs to-day those ashes to find out how buried and for- 
gotten hunkerism lived and acted. 

I knew a signal instance of this disease of scholar's 25 
distrust, and the cure was as remarkable. In boyhood 
and early life I was honored with the friendship of Lothrop 
Motley. He grew up in the thin air of Boston provincialism, 
and pined on such weak diet. I remember sitting with him 
once in the State House when he was a member of our 30 
Legislature. With biting words and a keen crayon he 
sketched the ludicrous points in the minds and persons of 
his fellow-members, and, tearing up the pictures, said scorn- 
fully, " What can become of a country with such fellows as 
these making its laws ? No safe investments ; your good 35 
name lied away any hour, and little worth keeping if it 



Wendell Phillips. 267 

were not." In vain I combated the folly. He went to 
Europe, — spent four or five years. I met him the day 
he landed, on his return. As if our laughing talk in 
the State House had that moment ended, he took my 
c hand with the sudden exclamation, " You were all right : 
I was all wrong ! It is a country worth dying for ; better 
still, worth living and working for, to make it ail it can be I " 
Europe made him one of the most American of all Ameri- 
cans. Some five years later, when he sounded that bugle- 

lo note in his letter to " The London Times," some critics who 
knew his early mood, but not its change, suspected there 
might be a taint of ambition in what they thought so sudden 
a conversion. I could testify that the mood was five years 
old : years before the slightest shadow of political expecta- 

15 tion had dusked the clear mirror of his scholar life. 

This distrust shows itself in the growing dislike of 
universal suffrage, and the efforts to destroy it made of 
late by all our easy classes. The white South hates uni- 
versal suffrage ; the so-called cultivated North distrusts it. 

20 Journal and college, social-science convention and the pulpit, 
discuss the propriety of restraining it. Timid scholars tell 
their dread of it. Carlyle, that bundle of sour prejudices, 
flouts universal suffrage with a blasphemy that almost equals 
its ignorance. See his v\^ords : " Democracy will prevail 

25 when men believe the vote of Judas as good as that of Jesus 
Christ." No democracy ever claimed that the vote of 
ignorance and crime was as good in any sense as that of 
wisdom and virtue. It only asserts that crime and igno- 
rance have the same right to vote that virtue has. Only by 

30 allowing that right, and so appealing to their sense of 
justice, and throwing upon them the burden of their full 
responsibility, can we hope ever to raise crime and igno- 
rance to the level of self-respect. The right to choose 
your governor rests on precisely the same foundation as 

35 the right to choose your religion ; and no more arrogant 
or ignorant arraignment of all that is noble in the civil 



268, Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

and religious Europe of the last five hundred years ever 
came from the triple crown on the Seven Hills than this 
sneer of the bigot Scotsman. Protestantism holds up its 
hands in holy horror, and tells us that the Pope scoops 
out the brains of his churchmen, saying, " I'll think for you: 
you need only obey." But the danger is, you meet such 
popes far away from the Seven Hills ; and it is sometimes 
difficult at first to recognize them, for they do not by any 
means always wear the triple crown. 

Evarts and his committee, appointed to inquire why the 
New- York City government is a failure, were not wise 
enough or did not dare, to point out the real cause, the 
tyranny of that tool of the demagogue, the corner grog-shop ; 
but they advised taking away the ballot from the poor 
citizen. But this provision would not reach the evil. Cor- 15 
ruption does not so much rot the masses : it poisons 
Congress. Credit-Mobilier and money rings are not housed 
under thatched roofs : they flaunt at the Capitol. As usual 
in chemistry, the scum floats uppermost. The railway king 
disdained canvassing for voters : "It is cheaper," he said, 20 
"to buy legislatures." 

It is not the masses who have most disgraced our political 
annals. I have seen many mobs between the seaboard and 
the Mississippi. I never saw or heard of any but well- 
dressed mobs, assembled and countenanced, if not always 25 
led in person, by respectability and what called itself educa- 
tion. That unrivalled scholar, the first and greatest New 
England ever lent to Congress, signalled his advent by 
quoting the original Greek of the New Testament in support 
of slavery, and offering to shoulder his musket in its defence ; 30 
and forty years later the last professor who went to quicken 
and lift the moral mood of those halls is found advising a 
plain, blunt, honest witness to forge and lie, that this 
scholarly reputation might be saved from wreck. Singular ■ 
comment on Landor's sneer, that there is a spice of the 35 
scoundrel in most of our literary men. But no exacting 



i 

l! 

ii 

I 

I! 



I 



Wendell Phillips. 269 

level of property qualification for a vote would have saved 
those stains. In those cases Judas did not come from the 
unlearned class. 

Grown gray over history, Macaulay prophesied twenty 
5 years ago that soon in these States the poor, worse than 
another inroad of Goths and Vandals, would begin a gen- 
eral plunder of the rich. It is enough to say that our 
national funds sell as well in Europe as English consols ; 
and the universal-suffrage Union can borrow money as 

10 cheaply as great Britain, ruled, one-half by Tories, and the 
other half by men not certain that they dare call themselves 
Whigs. Some men affected to scoff at democracy as no 
sound basis for national debt, doubting the payment of 
ours. Europe not only wonders at its rapid payment, but 

15 the only taint of fraud that touches even the hem of our 
garment is the fraud of the capitalist cunningly adding to its 
burdens, and increasing unfairly the value of his bonds ; not 
the first hint from the people of repudiating an iota even of 
its unjust additions. 

20 Yet the poor and the unlearned class is the one they pro- 
pose to punish by disfranchisement. 

No wonder the humbler class looks on the whole scene 
with alarm. They see their dearest right in peril. When 
the easy class conspires to steal, what wonder the humbler 

25 class draws together to defend itself ? True, universal 
suffrage is a terrible power; and, with all the great cities 
brought into subjection to the dangerous classes by grog, 
and Congress sitting to register the decrees of capital, both 
sides may well dread the next move. Experience proves 

30 that popular governments are the best protectors of life and 
property. But suppose they were not, Bancroft allows that 
"the fears of one class are no measure of the rights of 
another." 

Suppose that universal suffrage endangered peace and 

35 threatened property. There is something more valuable 
than wealth, there is something more sacred than peace. 



270 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

As Humboldt says, '' The finest fruit earth holds up to 
its Maker is a man." To ripen, lift, and educate a man 
is the first duty. Trade, law, learning, science, and religion 
are only the scaffolding wherewith to build a man. Despot- 
ism looks down into the poor man's cradle, and knows it 5 
can crush resistance and curb ill-will. Democracy sees the 
ballot in that baby-hand ; and selfishness bids her put integ- 
rity on one side of those baby footsteps and intelligence on 
the other, lest her own hearth be in peril. Thank God for 
his method of taking bonds of wealth and culture to share 10 
all their blessings with the humblest soul he gives to their 
keeping ! The American should cherish as serene a faith as 
his fathers had. Instead of seeking a coward safety by 
battening down the hatches and putting men back into 
chains, he should recognize that God places him in this 15 
peril that he may work out a noble security by concen- 
trating all moral forces to lift this weak, rotting, and danger- 
ous mass into sunlight and health. The fathers touched 
their highest level when, with stout-hearted and serene faith, 
they trusted God that it was safe to leave men with all the 20 
rights he gave them. Let us be worthy of their blood, and 
save this sheet-anchor of the race, — universal suffrage, — 
God's church, God's school, God's method of gently binding I 
men into commonwealths in order that they may at last melt 
into brothers. 25 

I urge on college-bred men, that, as a class, they fail in 
republican duty when they allow others to lead in the agita- 
tion of the great social questions which stir and educate the 
age. Agitation is an old word with a new meaning. Sir 
Robert Peel, the first English leader who felt himself its tool, 30 
defined it to be " marshalling the conscience of a nation to 
mould its laws." Its means are reason and argument, — no 
appeal to arms. Wait patiently for the growth of public 
opinion. That secured, then every step taken is taken for- 
ever. An abuse once removed never re-appears in history. 35 
The freer a nation becomes, the more utterly democratic in 



I 



Wendell Phillips. 271 



its form, the more need of this outside agitation. Parties 
and sects laden with the burden of securing their own 
success cannot afford to risk new ideas. " Predominant 
opinions," said Disraeh, " are the opinions of a class that is 
5 vanishing." The agitator must stand outside of organiza- 
tions, with no bread to earn, no candidate to elect, no party 
to save, no object but truth, — to tear a question open and 
riddle it with light. 

In all modern constitutional governments, agitation is the 

10 only peaceful method of progress. Wilberforce and Clark- 
son, Rowland Hill and Romilly, Cobden and John Bright, 
Garrison and O'Connell, have been the master spirits in this 
new form of crusade. Rarely in this country have scholarly 
men joined, as a class, in these great popular schools, in 

15 these social movements which make the great interests of 
society " crash and jostle against each other like frigates in 
a storm." 

It is not so much that the people need us, or will feel any 
lack from our absence. They can do without us. By sov- 

20 ereign and superabundant - strength they can crush their 
way through all obstacles. 

*' They will march prospering, — not through our presence ; 
Songs will inspirit them, — not from our lyre ; 
Deeds will be done — while we boast our quiescence; 
2c Still bidding crouch whom the rest bid aspire." 

The misfortune is, we lose a God-given opportunity cf 
making the change an unmixed good, or with the slightest 
possible share of evil, and are recreant beside to a special 
duty. These " agitations " are the opportunities and the 

30 means God offers us to refine the taste, mould the character, 
lift the purpose, and educate the moral sense of the masses, 
on whose intelligence and self-respect rests the state. God 
furnishes these texts. He gathers for us this audience, and 
only asks of our coward lips to preach the sermons. 

35 There have been four or five of these great opportunities, 



272 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

The crusade against slavery — that grand hypocrisy which 
poisoned the national life of two generations — was one, — 
a conflict between two civilizations which threatened to rend 
the Union. Almost every element among us was stirred to 
take a part in the battle. Every great issue, civil and moral, e 
was involved, — toleration of opinion, limits of authority, 
relation of citizen to law, place of the Bible, priest and lay- 
man, sphere of woman, question of race, state rights and 
nationality ; and Channing testified that free speech and 
free printing owed their preservation to the struggle. But 10 
the pulpit flung the Bible at the reformer ; law visited him 
with its penalties ; society spewed him out of its mouth ; 
bishops expurgated the pictures of their Common Prayer 
books ; and editors omitted pages in republishing English 
history; even Pierpont emasculated his Class-book; Ban- 15 
croft remodelled his chapters ; and Everett carried Washing- 
ton through thirty States, remembering to forget the brave 
words the wise Virginian had left on record warning his 
countrymen of this evil. Amid this battle of the giants, 
scholarship sat dumb for thirty years until imminent deadly 20 
peril convulsed it into action, and colleges, in their despair, 
gave to the army that help they had refused to the market- 
place and the rostrum. 

There was here and there an exception. That earth- 
quake scholar at Concord, whose serene word, like a whisper 25 
among the avalanches, topples down superstitions and preju- 
dices, was at his post, and, with half a score of others, made 
the exception that proved the rule. Pulpits, just so far as 
they could not boast of culture, and nestled closest down 
among the masses, were infinitely braver than the " spires 30 
and antique towers " of stately collegiate institutions. 

Then came reform of penal legislation, — the effort to 
make law mean justice, and substitute for its barbarism 
Christianity and civilization. In Massachusetts Rantoul 
represents Beccaria and Livingston, Mackintosh and ;^( 
Romilly. I doubt if he ever had one word of encourage- 



Wendell Phillips. 273 

ment from Massachusetts letters ; and, with a single excep- 
tion, I have never seen, till within a dozen years, one that 
could be called a scholar active in moving the Legislature 
to reform its code. 
5 " The London Times " proclaimed, twenty years ago, that 
intemperance produced more idleness, crime, disease, want, 
and misery than all other causes put together ; and, " The 
Westminster Review " calls it a " curse that far eclipses 
every other calamity under which we suffer." Gladstone, 

10 speaking as Prime Minister, admitted that " greater calami- 
ties are inflicted on mankind by intemperance than by the 
three great historical scourges, — war, pestilence, and 
famine." De Quincey says, " The most remarkable instance 
of a combined movement in society which history, perhaps, 

15 will be summoned to notice, is that which, in our day, has 
applied itself to the abatement of intemperance. Two vast 
movements are hurrying into action by velocities continually 
accelerated, — the great revolutionary movement irom. political 
causes concurring with the gx^2X physical movement in loco- 

20 motion and social intercourse from the gigantic power of 
steam. At the opening of such a crisis', had no third move- 
ment arisen of resistance to intemperate habits^ there would have 
been ground of despondency as to the melioration of the 
human race." These are English testimonies, where the 

25 state rests more than half on bayonets. Here we are trying 
to rest the ballot-box on a drunken people. " We can rule 
a great city," said Sir Robert Peel, " America cannot ; " and 
he cited the mobs of New York as sufficient proof of his 
assertion. 

30 Thoughtful men see that up to this hour the government 
of great cities has been with us a failure ; that worse than 
the dry-rot of legislative corruption, than the rancor of 
party spirit, than Southern barbarism, than even the tyranny 
of incorporated wealth, is the giant burden of intemperance, 

35 making universal suffrage a failure and a curse in every 
great city. Scholars who play statesmen, and editors who 



274 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 



1 



masquerade as scholars, can waste much excellent anxiety 
that clerks shall get no office until they know the exact date 
of Caesar's assassination, as well as the latitude of Pekin, and 
the Rule of Three. But while this crusade — the temper- 
ance movement — has been, for sixty years, gathering its 5 
facts and marshalling its arguments, rallying parties, besieg- 
ing legislatures and putting great States on the witness-stand 
as evidence of the soundness of its methods, scholars have 
given it nothing but a sneer. But if universal suffrage ever 
fails here for a time, — permanently it cannot fail, — it will 10 
not be incapable civil service, nor an ambitious soldier, nor 
Southern vandals, nor venal legislatures, nor the greed of 
wealth, nor boy statesmen rotten before they are ripe, that will 
put universal suffrage into eclipse : it will be rum intrenched ■ 
in great cities and commanding every vantage ground. 15 

Social science affirms that woman's place in society marks 
the level of civilization. From its twilight in Greece, through 
the Italian worship of the Virgin, the dreams of chivalry, the 
justice of the civil law, and the equality of French society, 
we trace her gradual recognition ; while our common law, as 20 
Lord Brougham confessed, was, with relation to women, the 
opprobrium of the age and of Christianity. For forty years, 
plain men and women, working noiselessly, have washed 
away that opprobrium ; the statute-books of thirty States 
have been remodelled, and woman stands to-day almost face 25 
to face with her last claim, — the ballot. It has been a 
weary and thankless, though successful, struggle. But if 
there be any refuge from that ghastly curse, the vice of great 
cities, — before which social science stands palsied and 
dumb, — it is in this more equal recognition of woman. If, 30 
in this critical battle for universal suffrage, — our fathers' 
noblest legacy to us, and the greatest trust God leaves in our 
hands, — there be any weapon, which, once taken from the 
armory, will make victory certain, it will be, as it has been in 
art, literature, and society, summoning woman info the polit- ^$ 
ical arena, 



Wendell Phillips. 275 

But, at any rate, up to this point, putting suffrage aside, 
there can be no difference of opinion : ever}^'thing born of 
Christianity, or allied to Grecian culture or Saxon law, must 
rejoice in the gain. The literary class, until half a dozen 
5 years, has taken note of this great uprising only to fling 
every obstacle in its way. The first glimpse we get of Saxon 
blood in history is that line of Tacitus in his " Germany," 
which reads, " In all grave matters they consult their women." 
Years hence, when robust Saxon sense has flung away Jewish 

10 superstition and Eastern prejudice, and put under its foot 
fastidious scholarship and squeamish fashion, some second 
Tacitus, from the valley of the Mississippi, will answer to 
him of the Seven Hills, " In all grave questions we consult 
our women." 

15 I used to think that then we could say to letters as Henry 
of Navarre wrote to the Sir Philip Sidney of his realm, Cril- 
lon, " the bravest of the brave," " We have conquered at 
Arques, et tu ?iy etais pas, Crinoii'' — " You were not there, 
my Crillon." But a second thought reminds me that what 

20 claims to be literature has been always present in that bat- 
tle-field, and always in the ranks of the foe. 

Ireland is another touchstone which reveals to us how ab- 
surdly we masquerade in democratic trappings while we 
have gone to seed in tory distrust of the people ; false to 

25 every duty, which, as eldest-born of democratic institutions, 
we owe to the oppressed, and careless of the lesson every 
such movement may be made in keeping public thought 
clear, keen, and fresh as to principles which are the essence 
of our civilization, the groundwork of all education in re- 

30 publics. 

Sydney Smith said. " The moment Ireland is mentioned 
the English seem to bid adieu to common sense, and to act 
with the barbarity of tyrants and the fatuity of idiots." 
" As long as the patient will suffer, the cruel will kick. . . . 

35 If the Irish go on -withholding and forbearing, and hesitating 
whether this is the time for discussion or that is the time, 



2/6 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

they will be laughed at another century as fools, and kicked ^ 
for another century as slaves." Byron called England's ^ 
union with Ireland "the union of the shark with his prey."-/^ 
Bentham's conclusion, from a survey of five hundred years 
of European history, was, " Only by making the ruling ^ 
few uneasy can the oppressed many obtain a particle of i 
relief." Edmund Burke — Burke, the noblest figure in the 
ParHamentary history of the last hundred years, greater than 
Cicero in the senate and almost Plato in the academy — •■ _ 
Burke affirmed, a century ago, "Ireland has learnt at last that lo- 
justice is to be had from England, only when demanded at y 
the sword's point." And a century later, only last year ^^ 
Gladstone himself proclaimed in a public address in Scot-'"^ 
land, " England never concedes anything to Ireland except j;^ ^ 
when moved to do so by fear." 15 

When we remember these admissions, we ought to clap our 
hands at every fresh Irish " outrage," as a parrot-press styles 
it ; aware that it is only a far-off echo of the musket-shots 
that rattled against the Old State House on the 5th of 
March, 1770, and of the war-whoop that made the tiny spire 20 
of the Old South tremble when Boston rioters emptied the 
three India tea-ships into the sea, — welcome evidence of 
living force and rare intelligence in the victim, and a sign 
that the day of deliverance draws each hour nearer. Cease 
ringing endless changes of eulog}'' on the men who made 25 
North's Boston port-bill a failure while every leading journal 
sends daily over the water wishes for the success of Glad- 
stone's copy of the bill for Ireland. If all rightful govern- 
ment rests on consent, — if, as the French say, you " can do 
almost anything with a bayonet except sit on it," — be at 30 
least consistent, and denounce the man who covers Ireland 
with regiments to hold up a despotism, which, within twenty 
months, he has confessed rests wholly upon fear. 

Then note the scorn and disgust with which we gather up 
our garments about us and disown the Sam Adams and 35 
William Prescott, the George Washington and John Brown, 



Wendell Phillips. 277 

of St. Petersburg, the spiritual descendants, the hving repre- 
sentatives, of those who make our histor\^ worth anything in 
the world's annals, — the Nihilists. 

Nihilism is the righteous and honorable resistance of a 
5 people crushed under an iron rule. Nihilism is evidence of 
life. When "order reigns in Warsaw,'' it is spiritual death. 
Nihilism is the last weapon of victims choked and manacled 
beyond all other resistance. It is crushed humanit}^'s only 
means of making the oppressor tremble. God means that 

10 unjust power shall be insecure ; and ever}- move of the giant, 
prostrate in chains, whether it be to lift a single dagger or 
stir a cit}-"s revolt, is a lesson in justice. One might well 
tremble for the future of the race if such a despotism could 
exist without provoking the bloodiest resistance. I honor 

15 Nihilism ; since it redeems human nature from the suspicion 
of being utterly vile, made up only of heartless oppressors 
and contented slaves. Every line in our histor)-, every in- 
terest of civilization, bids us rejoice when the t}Tant grows 
pale and the slave rebellious. We cannot but pit}^ the suf- 

20 fering of any human being. howeA-er richly deserved ; but 
such pit}' must not confuse our moral sense. Humanity 
gains. Chatham rejoiced when our fathers rebelled. For 
ever}' single reason they alleged. Russia counts a hundred, 
each one ten times bitterer than any Hancock or Adams 

25 could give. Sam Johnson's standing toast in Oxford port 
was, " Success to the first insurrection of slaves in Jamaica," 
a sentiment Southey echoed. •■ Eschew cant," said that old 
moralist. But of all the cants that are canted in this canting 
world, though the cant of piet}^ may be the worst, the cant of 

;in Americans bewailing Russian Nihilism is the most disgust- 
ing, 

I know what reform needs, and all it needs, in a land where 
discussion is free, the press untrammelled, and where pubHc 
halls protect debate. There, as Emerson says, " What the 

35 tender and poetic youth dreams to-day, and conjures up with 
inarticulate speech, is to-morrow the vociferated result of pub- 



278 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

lie opinion, and the day after is the charter of nations." Lie- 
ber said, in 1870, " Bismarck proclaims to-day in the Diet the 
very principles for which we were hunted and exiled fifty 
years ago." Submit to risk your daily bread, expect social 
ostracism, count on a mob now and then, " be in earnest, 5 
don't equivocate, don't excuse, don't retreat a single inch," 
and you will finally be heard. No matter how long and 
weary the waiting, at last, — 

" Ever the truth comes uppermost, 

And ever is justice done. 10 

For Humanity sweeps onward : 

Where to-day the martyr stands, 
On the morrow crouches Judas 

With the silver in his hands ; 

" Far in front the cross stands ready, 15 

And the crackling fagots burn, 
While the hooting mob of yesterday 

In silent awe return 
To glean up the scattered ashes 

Into History's golden urn." 20 

In such a land he is doubly and trebly guilty, who, except 
in some most extreme case, disturbs the sober rule of law and 
order. 

But such is not Russia. In Russia there is no press, no 
debate, no explanation of what government does, no remon- 25 
strance allowed, no agitation of public issues. Dead silence, 
like that which reigns at the summit of Mont Blanc, freezes 
the whole empire, long ago described as " a despotism tem- 
pered by assassination." Meanwhile, such despotism has 
unsettled the brains of the ruling family, as unbridled power 30 
doubtless made some of the twelve Caesars insane : a madman, 
sporting with the lives and comfort of a hundred million of 
men. The young girl whispers in her mother's ear, under a 
ceiled roof, her pity for a brother knouted and dragged half 
dead into exile for his opinions. The next week she is 35 
stripped naked, and flogged to death in the public square. 



I 



Wendell Phillips. 279 

No inquiry, no explanation, no trial, no protest, one dead 
uniform silence, the law of the tyrant. Where is there 
ground for any hope of peaceful change ? Where the ful- 
crum upon which you can plant any possible lever ? 
5 Macchiavelli's sorry picture of poor human nature would be 
fulsome flattery if men could keep still under such oppression. 
No, no ! in such a land dynamite and the dagger are the 
necessary and proper substitutes for Faneuil Hall and " The 
Daily Advertiser." Anything that will make the madman 

ro quake in his bedchamber, and rouse his victims into reckless 
and desperate resistance. This is the only view an American, 
the child of 1620 and 1776, can take of Nihilism. Any other 
unsettles and perplexes the ethics of our civilization. 

Born within sight of Bunker Hill, in a commonwealth which 

15 adopts the motto of Algernon Sidney, sub liberiate quietem 
( " accept no peace without liberty " ), — son of Harvard, 
whose first pledge was " Truth," citizen of a republic based 
on the claim that no government is rightful unless resting on 
the consent of the people, aad w^hich assumes to lead in as- 

20 serting the rights of humanity, — I at least can say nothing 
else and nothing less, — no, not if every tile on Cambridge 
roofs were a devil hooting my words ! 

1 shall bow to any rebuke from those who hold Christianity 
to command entire non-resistance. But criticism from any 

25 other quarter is only that nauseous hypocrisy, which, stung 
by threepenny tea-tax, piles Bunker Hill with granite and 
statues, prating all the time of patriotism and broadswords, 
while, like another Pecksniff, it recommends a century of 
dumb submission and entire non-resistance to the Russians, 

30 who, for a hundred years, have seen their sons by thousands 
dragged to death or exile, no one knows which, in this w^orse 
than Venetian mystery of police, and their maidens flogged to 
death in the market-place, and who share the same fate if 
they presume to ask the reason why. 

35 "It is unfortunate, " says Jefferson, " that the efforts of 
mankind to secure the freedom of which they have been de- 



28o Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

prived should be accompanied with violence and even with 
crime. But while we weep over the means, we must pray for 
the end." Pray fearlessly for such ends : there is no risk 1 
** Men are all tories by nature," says Arnold, " when toler- 
ably well off : only monstrous injustice and atrocious cruelty 5 
can rouse them." Some talk of the rashness of the unedu- 
cated classes. Alas ! ignorance is far oftener obstinate than 
rash. Against one French Revolution — that scarecrow of 
the ages — weigh Asia, " carved in stone," and a thousand 
years of Europe, with her half-dozen nations meted out and 10 
trodden down to be the dull and contented footstools of priests 
and kings. The customs of a thousand years ago are the 
sheet-anchor of the passing generation, so deeply buried, so 
fixed, that the most violent efforts of the maddest fanatic can 
drag it but a hand's-breadth. 1 5 

Before the war Americans were like the crowd in that ter- 
rible hall of Eblis which Beckford painted for us, — each 
man with his hand pressed on the incurable sore in his bosom, 
and pledged not to speak of it : compared with other lands, 
we were intellectually and morally a nation of cowards. 20 

When I first entered the Roman States, a custom-house of- 
ficial seized all. my French books. In vain I held up to him 
a treatise by Fenelon, and explained that it was by a Catholic ■ 
archbishop of Cambray. Gruffly he answered, " It makes 
no difference : it is French.'''' As I surrendered the volume 25 
to his remorseless grasp, I could not but honor the nation 
which had made its revolutionary purpose so definite that des- 
potism feared its very language. I only wished that injustice 
and despotism everywhere might one day have as good cause 
to hate and to fear everything American. 30 

At last that disgraceful seal of slave complicity is broken. 
Let us inaugurate a new departure, recognize that we are 
afloat on the current of Niagara, — eternal vigilance the 
condition of our safety, — that we are irrevocably pledged to 
the world not to go back to bolts and bars, — could not if 35 
we would, and would not if we could. Never again be ours 



I 



Wendell Phillips. 281 

the fastidious scholarship that shrinks from rude contact with 
the masses. Very pleasant it is to sit high up in the world's 
theatre and criticise the ungraceful struggles of the gladi- 
ators, shrug one's shoulders at the actors' harsh cries, and 
5 let every one know that but for "this villainous salt- 
petre you would yourself have been a soldier." But Bacon 
says, " In the theatre of man's life, God and his angels only 
should be lookers-on." " Sin is not taken out of man as Eve 
was out of Adam, by putting him to sleep." " Very beauti- 

10 ful," says Richter, " is the eagle when he floats with out- 
stretched wings aloft in the clear blue ; but sublime when he 
plunges down through the tempest to his eyry on the cliff, 
where his unfledged young ones dwell and are starving." 
Accept proudly the analysis of Fisher Ames : " A monarchy 

1 5 is a man-of-war, stanch, iron-ribbed, and resistless when under 
full sail ; yet a single hidden rock sends her to the bottom. 
Our republic is a raft, hard to steer, and your feet always wet ; 
but nothing can sink her." If the Alps, piled in cold and 
silence, be the emblem of despotism, we joyfully take the 

20 ever-restless ocean for ours, — only pure because never still. 

Journalism must have more self-respect. Now it praises 

good and bad men so indiscriminately that a good word 

from nine-tenths of our journals is worthless. In burying 

our Aaron Burrs, both political parties — in order to get the 

25 credit of magnanimity — exhaust the vocabulary of eulogy so 
thoroughly that there is nothing left with which to distinguish 
our John Jays. The love of a good name in life and a fair 
reputation to survive us — that strong bond to well-doing — 
is lost where every career, however stained, is covered with the 

30 same fulsome flattery, and where what men say in the streets 
is the exact opposite of what they say to each other. De mor- 
tuis nil nisi bonum most men translate, " Speak only good of 
the dead." I prefer to construe it, " Of the dead say nothing 
unless you can tell something good." And if the sin and 

35 the recreancy have been marked and far-reaching in their 
evil, even the charity of silence is not permissible. 



282 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

To be as good as our fathers we must be better. They 
silenced their fears and subdued their prejudices, inaugu- 
rating free speech and equality with no precedent on the 
file. Europe shouted "Madmen ! " and gave us forty years 
for the shipwreck. With serene faith they persevered. Let 5 
us rise to their level. Crush appetite and prohibit tempta- 
tion if it rots great cities. Intrench labor in sufficient bul- 
warks against that wealth, which, without the tenfold strength 
of modern incorporation, wrecked the Grecian and Roman 
States ; and, with a sterner effort still, summon women into 10 
civil life as re-enforcement to our laboring ranks in the effort ■ 
to make our civilization a success. | 

Sit not, like the figure on our silver coin, looking ever 

backward. 

" New occasions teach new duties ; 15 

Time makes ancient good uncouth ; 
They must upward still, and onward, 
Who would keep abreast of Truth. 
Lo ! before us gleam her camp-fires I 

We ourselves must Pilgrims be, 20 

Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly 
Through the desperate winter sea, 
Nor attempt the Future's portal 
With the Past's blood-rusted key." 



II. 

GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS. 

The Leadership of Educated Men.^ 

Delivered before the Alumni of Browni University, Providence, 
June 20^ 1882. 

[This oration is, in a way, a reply to the Phi Beta Kappa address of 
Wendell Phillips. " The subject with which it deals, the place of the 
educated man in public affairs, was a particularly congenial one to Mr. 

^ Reprinted, by permission, from the Orations and Addresses of George 
William Curtis : Copyright, 1893, hy Messrs. Harper and Brothers. 



George William Curtis. 283 

Curtis, as it has been to other men who have thought deeply over the 
problems of our democracy. In 1856, in an address which Mr. Curtis 
delivered before the literary societies of Wesleyan University, his first 
platform oration of any note, he chose for his topic ' The Duty of the 

5 American Scholar to PoUtics and the Times.' A year later, in 1857, 
when he spoke to the graduating class of Union College on ' Patriot- 
ism ' he took as his theme this question : ' How can you, as educated 
young Americans, best serve the great cause of human development to 
which all nationalities are subservient ? ' Again, twenty years after this, 

10 in another address before the students of Union College, he had for his 
subject 'The PubHc Duty of Educated Men.'" American Oratory, 
R. C. Ringwalt, p. 256. H. Holt & Co.] 

There is a modern English picture which the genius of 
Hawthorne might have inspired. The painter calls it, 

15 "How they met themselves." A man and a woman, hag- 
gard and weary, wandering lost in a somber wood, suddenly 
meet the shadowy figures of a youth and a maid. Some 
mysterious fascination fixes the gaze and stills the hearts of 
the wanderers, and their amazement deepens into awe as 

20 they gradually recognize themselves as once they were ; the 
soft bloom of youth upon their rounded cheeks, the dewy 
light of hope in their trusting eyes, exulting confidence in 
their springing step, themselves blithe and radiant with the 
glory of the dawn. To-day, and here, we meet ourselves. 

25 Not to these familiar scenes alone — yonder college-green 
with its reverend traditions ; the halcyon cove of the See- 
konk, upon which the memory of Roger Williams broods 
like a bird of calm ; the historic bay, beating forever with 
the muffled oars of Barton and of Abraham Whipple ; here, 

30 the humming city of the living ; there, the peaceful city of 
the dead ; — not to these only or chiefly do we return, but to 
ourselves as we once were. It is not the smiling freshmen 
X)f the year, it is your own beardless and unwrinkled faces, 
that are looking from the windows of University Hall and of 

35 Hope College. Under the trees upon the hill it is yourselves 
whom you see walking, full of hopes and dreams, glowing 
with conscious power, and "nourishing a youth sublime"; 



284 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

and in this familiar temple, which surely has never echoed 
with eloquence so fervid and inspiring as that of your com- 
mencement orations, it is not yonder youths in the galleries 
who, as they fondly believe, are whispering to yonder maids ; 
it is your younger selves who, in the days that are no more, 5 
are murmuring to the fairest mothers and grandmothers of 
those maids. 

Happy the worn and weary man and woman in the picture 
could they have felt their older eyes still glistening with that 
earlier light, and their hearts yet beating with undiminished 10 
sympathy and aspiration. Happy we, brethren, whatever 
may have been achieved, whatever left undone, if, returning 
to the home of our earlier years, we bring with us the illimit- 
able hope, the unchilled resolution, the inextinguishable faith 
of youth. 15 

It was as scholars that you were here ; it is to the feeling 
and life of scholars that you return. I mean the scholar not 
as a specialist or deeply proficient student, not like Darwin, 
a conqueror greater than Alexander, who extended the em- 
pire of human knowledge ; nor like Emerson, whose serene 20 
wisdom, a planet in the cloudless heaven, lighted the path 
of his age to larger spiritual liberty ; nor like Longfellow, 
sweet singer of our national spring-time, whose scholarship 
decorated his pure and limpid song as flowers are mirrored 
in a placid stream — not as scholars like these, but as edu- 25 
cated men, to whom the dignity and honor and renown of 
the educated class are precious, however remote from study 
your lives may have been, you return to the annual festival 
of letters. ''Neither years nor books," says Emerson, speak- 
ing of his own college days, " have yet availed to extirpate a 30 
prejudice then rooted in me that a scholar is the favorite of 
heaven and earth, the excellency of his country, the happiest 
of men." 

But every educated man is aware of a profound popular 
distrust of the courage and sagacity of the educated class. 35 
Franklin and Lincoln are good enough for us, exclaims this 



George William Curtis. 285 

jealous skepticism ; as if Franklin and Lincoln did not labo- 
riously repair by vigorous study the want 'of early opportu- 
nity. The scholar appealing to experience is proudly told 
to close his books, for what has America to do with expe- 
5 rience ? as if books were not the ever-burning lamps of ac- 
cumulated wisdom. When Voltaire was insulted by the 
London mob, he turned at his door and complimented them 
upon the nobleness of their national character, their glorious 
constitution, and their love of liberty. The London mob 

10 did not feel the sarcasm. But when I hear that America 
may scorn experience because she is a law to herself, I re- 
member that a few years ago a foreign observer came to the 
city of Washington, and said: "I did not fully comprehend 
your greatness until I saw your Congress. Then I felt that 

15 if you could stand that you could stand anything, and I 
understood the saying that God takes care of children, 
drunken men, and the TJnited States." 

The scholar is denounced as a coward. Humanity falls 
among thieves, we are told, and the college Levite, the edu- 

20 cated Pharisee, pass by on the other side. Slavery under- 
mines the Republic, but the clergy in America are the 
educated class, and the Church makes itself the bulwark of 
slavery. Strong drink slays its tens of thousands, but the 
educated class leaves the gospel of temperance to be preached 

25 by the ignorant and the enthusiast, as the English Establish- 
ment left the preaching of regeneration to Methodist itiner- 
ants in fields and barns. Vast questions cast their shadows 
upon the future : the just relations of capital and labor ; 
the distribution of land ; the towering power of corporate 

30 wealth ; reform in administrative methods ; but the educated 
class, says the critic, instead of advancing to deal with them 
promptly, wisely, and courageously, and settling them as 
morning dissipates the night, without a shock, leaves them 
to be kindled to fury by demagogues, lifts a panic cry of 

35 communism, and sinks paralyzed with terror. It is the old 
accusation. Erasmus was the great pioneer of modern 



286 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

scholarship. But in the fierce contest of the Reformation 
Luther denounced him as a time-server and a coward. With 
the same feeUng, Theodore Parker, the spiritual child of 
Luther, asked of Goethe, '' Tell me, what did he ever do for 
the cause of man ? " and when nothing remained for his 5 
country but the dread alternative of sbvery or civil vv'ar, 
Parker exclaimed sadly of the class to which he belonged, 
" If our educated men had done their duty, we should not 
now be in the ghastly condition w^e bewail." 

Gentlemen, we belong to the accused class. Its honor 10 
and dignity are very precious to us. Is this humiliating ar- 
raignment true ? Does the educated class of America espe- 
cially deserve this condemnation of political recreancy and 
moral cowardice ? Faithless scholars, laggard colleges, big- 
goted pulpits, there maybe; signal instances you may find 15 
of feebleness and pusillanimity. This has been always true. 
Leigh Hunt said, *' I thought that my Horace and Demos- 
thenes gave me a right to sit at table with any man, and I 
think so still." But when DeQuincey met Dr. Parr, who knew 
Horace and Demosthenes better than any man of his time, 20 
he described him as a lisping scandal-monger, retailing 1 
gossip fit only for washerwomen to hear. During the earth- i 
quake of the great civil war in England, Sir Thomas Browne | 
sat tranquilly in scholarly seclusion, polishing the conceits 
of the ''Urn Burial," and modulating the long-drawn music 25 
of the " Religio Medici." Looking at Browne and Parr, at 
Erasmus and Goethe, is it strange that scholars are impa- 
tiently derided as useless pedants or literary voluptuaries, 
and that the whole educated class is denounced as feeble 
and impracticable ? 30 

But remember what Coleridge said to Washington Alston, 
"Never judge a work of art by its defects." The proper 
comment to make upon recreant scholars is that of Brum- 
mell's valet upon the tumbled cambric in his hands, '^ These 
are our failures." Luther, impatient of the milder spirit of 35 
Erasmus and Colet and Sir Thomas More, might well have 

1 



I 



George William Curtis. 287 

called them our failures, because he was of their class, and 
while they counseled moderation, his fiery and impetuous 
soul sought to seize triple-crowned error and drag it from its 
throne. But Luther was no less a scholar, and stands 
5 equally with them for the scholarly class and the heroism of 
educated men. Even Erasmus said of him with friendly 
wit, " He has hit the Pope on the crown and the monks on 
the belly." If the cowled scholars of the Church rejected 
him, and universities under their control renounced and con- 

10 demned him, yet Luther is justified in saying, as he sweeps 
his hand across them and speaks for himself and for the 
scholars who stood with him, " These are not our represen- 
tatives ; these are our failures." 

So on our side of the sea the educated body of Puritan 

15 Massachusetts Bay, the clergy and the magistrates, drove 
Roger Williams from their borders — Roger Williams, also a 
scholar and a clergyman, and, with John Milton, the bright 
consummate flower of Puritanism. But shall not he stand for 
the scholar rather than Cotton Mather, torturing terrified 

20 old women to death as witches ! I appeal from Philip drunk 
to Philip sober — from the scholarship that silenced Mrs. 
Hutchinson and hung Mary Dyer and pressed Giles Corey to 
death, to the scholarship that argued with George Fox and 
founded a political commonwealth upon soul liberty. A year 

25 ago I sat with my brethren of the Phi Beta Kappa at Cam- 
bridge, and seemed to catch echoes of Edmund Burke's 
resounding impeachment of Warren Hastings in the spark- 
ling denunciation of the timidity of American scholarship. 
Under the spell of Burke's burning words Hastings half 

30 believed himself to be the villain he heard described. But 
the scholarly audience of the scholarly orator of the Phi 
Beta Kappa, with an exquisite sense of relief, felt every count 
of his stinging indictment recoil upon himself. He was the 
glowing refutation of his own argument. Gentleman, scholar, 

35 orator — his is the courage that never quailed; his the white 
plume of Navarre that flashed meteor-like in the front of 



288 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

battle ; his the Amphion music of an eloquence that leveled 
the more than Theban walls of American slavery. At once 
judge, culprit, and accuser, in the noble record of his own 
life he and his class are triumphantly acquitted. 

Must we count such illustrations as exceptions ? But how 5 
can we do so when we see that the Reformaticfn, the mental 
and moral new birth of Christendom, was the work of the 
educated class ? Follow the movement of liberty in detail, 
and still the story is the same. The great political contest 
in England, inspired by the Reformation, was directed by ic 
University men. John Pym in the Commons, John Hamp- 
den in the field, John Milton in the Cabinet — three Johns, 
and all of them well-beloved disciples of liberty — with the 
grim Oliver himself, purging England of royal despotism, 
and avenging the slaughtered saints on Alpine mountains 15 
cold, were all of them children of Oxford and Cambridge. 
In the next century, like a dawn lurid but bright, the French 
Revolution broke upon the world. But the only hope of a 
wise direction of the elemental forces that upheaved France 
vanished when the educated leadership lost control, and 20 
Marat became the genius and the type of the Revolution. 
Ireland also bears witness. As it^ apostle and tutelary saint 
was a scholar, so its long despair of justice has found its 
voice and its hand among educated Irishmen. Swift and 
Molyneux, and Flood and Grattan and O'Connell, Duffy, and 25 
the young enthusiasts around Thomas Davis who sang of an 
Erin that never was and dreamed of an Ireland that cannot I 
be, were men of the colleges and the schools, whose long 
persistence of tongue and pen fostered the life of their coun- 
try and gained for her all that she has won. For modern 30 
Italy, let Silvio Pellico and Foresti and Maroncelli answer. 
It was Italian education which Austria sought to smother, 
and it was not less Cavour than Garibaldi who gave consti- 
tutional liberty to Italy. When Germany sank at Jena un- 
der the heel of Napoleon, and Stein — whom Napoleon 35 
hated, but could not appall — asked if national life survived, 



George William Curtis. .289 

the answer rang from the universities, and from them mod- 
ern Germany came forth. With prophetic impulse Theodore 
Koerner called his poems " The Lyre and the Sword," for, 
like the love which changed the sea-nymph into the harp, 
5 the fervent patriotism of the educated youth of Germany 
turned the poet's lyre into the soldier's victorious sword. 
In the splendor of our American day let us remember and 
honor our brethren, first in every council, dead upon every 
field of freedom from the Volga to the Rhine, from John 

10 o' Groat's to the Adriatic, who have steadily drawn Europe 
from out the night of despotism, and have vindicated for the 
educated class the leadership of modern civilization. 

Here in America, where as yet there are no ruins save 
those of ancient wrongs, undoubtedly New England has 

1 5 inspired and molded our national life. But if New England 
has led the Union, what has led New England ? Her schol- 
arly class. Her educated men. And our Roger Williams 
gave the key-note. " He has broached and divulged new 
and dangerous opinions against the authority of magis- 

20 trates," said Massachusetts as she banished him. A century 
later his dangerous opinions had captured Massachusetts. 
Young Sam Adams, taking his Master's degree at Cam- 
bridge, argued that it was lawful to resist the supreme 
magistrate if the State could not otherwise be preserved. 

25 He was a college stripling. But seven years afterward, in 
1750, the chief pulpit orator in New England, Jonathan 
Mayhew, preached in Boston the famous sermon which 
Thornton called the morning gun of the Revolution, apply- 
ing to the political situation the principles of Roger Wil- 

30 liams. The New England pulpit echoed and re-echoed that 
morning gun, arousing the country, and twenty-five years 
later its warning broke into the rattle of musketry at Lexing- 
ton and Concord and the glorious thunder of Bunker Hill. 
It was a son of Harvard, James Otis, who proposed the 

35 assembly of an American congress without asking the king's 
leave. It was a son of Yale, John Morin Scott, who declared 



290 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

that if taxation without representation were to be enforced, 
the colonies ought to separate from England. It was a 
group of New York scholars, John Jay and Scott and the 
Livingstones, which spoke for the colony in response to the 
Boston Port Bill and proposed the Continental Congress. 5 
It was a New England scholar in that Congress, whom 
Rufus Choate declared to be the distinctive and comprehen- 
sive orator of the Revolution, John Adams, who, urging 
every argument, touching every stop of passion, pride, ten- 
derness, interest, conscience, and lofty indignation, swept up 10 
his country as into a chariot of fire and soared to inde- 
pendence. 

I do not forget that Virginian tongue of flame, Patrick 
Henry, nor that patriotism of the field and fireside which 
recruited the Sons of Liberty. The inspiring statue of the 15^ 
Minute Man at Concord — and a nobler memorial figure 
does not stand upon our soil — commemorates the spirit 
that left the plough standing in the furrow, that drew 
Nathaniel Greene from his anvil and Esek Hopkins from 
his farm ; the spirit that long before had sent the poor parish- 20 
ioners of Scrooby to Holland, and filled the victorious ranks 
of the Commonwealth at Naseby and at Marston Moor. But 
in America as in England they were educated men who were 
in the pulpit, on the platform, and through the press, con- 
ducted the mighty preUminary argument of the Revolution, 25 
defended the ancient traditions of English liberty against 
reactionary England, aroused the colonists to maintain the 
cause of human nature, and led them from the Gaspee and 
Bunker Hill across the plains of Saratoga, the snows of 
Valley Forge, the sands of Monmouth, the hills of Carolina, 30 I 
until at Yorktown once more the king surrendered to the 
people, and educated America had saved constitutional 
liberty. 

In the next brief and critical period, when through the 
travail of a half-anarchical confederation the independent 35 
States, always instinctively tending to union, rose into a I 



George William Curtis. 291 

rural constitutional republic, the good genius of America 
was still the educated mind of the country. Of the fifty-five 
members of the Convention, which Bancroft, changing the 
poet's line, calls " the goodliest fellowship of law-givers 
5 whereof this world holds record,'' thirty -three were college 
graduates, and the eight leaders of the great debate were all 
college men. The Convention adjourned, and while from 
out the strong hand of George Clinton, Hamilton, the son 
of Columbia, drew New York into the Union, that placid 

10 son of Princeton, James Madison, withstanding the fiery 
energy of Patrick Henry, placed Virginia by her side. 
Then Columbia and Princeton uniting in Hamilton, Jay, 
and Madison, interpreted the Constitution in that greatest of 
commentaries, which, as the dome crowns the Capitol, com- 

15 pleted the majestic argument which long before the sons of 
Harvard had begun. Take away the scholarly class from 
the discussion that opened the Revolution, fro'm the delibera- 
tions that guided it, from the debates of the Constitutional 
Convention that ended it — would the advance of America 

20 have been more triumphant ? Would the guarantees of 
individual liberty, of national union, of a common prosper- 
ity, have been more surely established ? The critics laughed 
at the pictured grapes as unnatural. But the painter was 
satisfied when the birds came and pecked at them. Daily 

25 the educated class is denounced as impracticable and vision- 
ary. But the Constitution of the United States is the work 
of American scholars. 

Doubtless the leaders expressed a sentiment which was 
shared by the men and women around them. But it was 

30 they who had formed and fostered that sentiment. They 
were not the puppets of the crowd, light weathercocks which 
merely showed the shifting gusts of popular feeling. They 
did not follow what they could not resist, and make their 
voices the tardy echo of a thought they did not share. They 

35 were not daint}^ and feeble hermits because they were edu- 
cated men. They were equal citizens with the rest; men of 



292 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

strong convictions and persuasive speech, who showed their 
brethren what they ought to think and do. That is the secret 
of leadership. It is not servility to the mob, it is not giving 
vehement voice to popular frenzy, that makes a leader. 
That makes a demagogue ; Cleon, not Pericles ; Catiline, not 5 
Cicero. Leadership is the power of kindling a sympathy 
and trust which all will eagerly follow. It is the genius that 
molds the lips of the stony Memnon to such sensitive life 
that the first sunbeam of opportunity strikes them into music. 
In a great crisis it is thinking so as to make others think, 10 
feeling so as to make others feel, which tips the orator's 
tongue with fire that lights as well as burns. So when Lord 
Chatham stood at the head of England organizing her victo- 
ries by land and sea, and told in Parliament their splendid 
story, his glowing form was Britain's self, and the roar of 15 
British guns and the proud acclamation of British hearts all 
around the globe flashed and thundered in his eloquence. 
" This is a glorious morning," said the scholar Samuel 
Adams, with a price set on his head, as he heard the guns at 
Lexington. "Decus et decorum est," said the young scholar 20 
Joseph Warren gayly, as he passed to his death on Bunker 
Hill. They spoke for the lofty enthusiasm of patriotism 
which they had kindled. It was not a mob, an ignorant mul- 
titude swayed by a mysterious impulse ; it was a body of 
educated men, wise and heroic because they were educated, 25 
who lifted this country to independence and laid deep and 
strong the foundations of the Republic. 

Is this less true of the maintenance and development of 
the government ? Thirty years ago, walking on the Cliff at 
Newport with Mr. Bancroft, I asked him to what point he 30 
proposed to continue his history. He answered : " If I were 
an artist painting a picture of this ocean, my work would stop 
at the horizon. I can see no further. My history will end 
with the adoption of the Constitution. All beyond that is 
experiment." This was long ago. But the Republic is an 35 
experiment no longer. It has been strained to the utmost 



George William Curtis. 293 

along the very vital fiber of its frame, and it has emerged from 
the ordeal recreated. Happy venerable historian, who has 
survived both to witness the triumph of the experiment, and 
to complete his stately story to the very point which he con- 
5 templated thirty years ago ! He has reached what was then 
the horizon, and may a gracious Providence permit him yet 
to depict the new and further and radiant prospect which he 
and all his countrymen behold ! 

In achieving this great result has educated America been 

10 sluggish or skeptical or cowardly? The Constitution was 
but ten years old when the author of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, speaking with great authority and for a great party, 
announced that the Constitution was a compact of which 
every State must judge for itself both the fact of violation 

15 and the mode of redress. Jefferson sowed dragon's teeth in 
the fresh soil of the young Union. He died, but the armed 
men appeared. The whole course of our politics for nearly 
a century was essentially revolutionary. Beneath all specific 
measures and party policies lay the supreme question of the 

20 nature of the government which Jefferson had raised. Is the 
Union a league or a nation ? Are we built upon the solid 
earth or unstably encamped, like Sinbad's company, upon the 
back of a sea-monster which may dive at any moment ? Un- 
til this doubt was settled there could be no peace. Yet the 

25 question lay in our politics only like the far black cloud 
along the horizon, flashing and muttering scarce heard thun- 
ders until the slavery agitation began. That was a debate 
which devoured every other, until the slave-power, foiled in 
the hope of continental empire, pleaded Jefferson's theory of 

30 the Constitution as an argument for national dissolution. 
This was the third great crisis of the country, and in the tre- 
mendous contention, as in the war that followed, was the 
American scholar recreant and dumb ? 

I do not ask, for it is not necessary, whether in the ranks 

35 of the powerful host that resisted agitation there were not 
scholars and educated men. I do not ask whether the edu- 



294 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

cated or any other class alone maintained the fight, nor whether 
there were not unquailing leaders who were not educated men, 
nor whether all were first, or all approved the same methods, 
or all were equally wise or equally zealous. Of course, I make 
no exclusive claim. I do not now speak of men like Garri- 5 
son, whose name is that of a great patriot and a great human 
benefactor, and whose sturdy leadership was that of an old 
Hebrew prophet. But was the great battle fought and won 
while we and our guild stood passive and hostile by ? 

The slavery agitation began with the moral appeal, and as 10 
in the dawn of the Revolution educated America spoke in 
the bugle note of James Otis, so in the moral onset of the 
antislavery agitation rings out the clear voice of a son of 
Otis' college, himself the Otis of the later contest, Wendell 
Phillips. By his side, in the stormy dawn of the movement, 15 
stands a grandson of Quincy of the Revolution, and among 
the earliest antislavery leaders is more than a proportionate 
part of liberally educated men. In Congress the command- 
ing voice for freedom was that of the most learned, experi- 
enced, and courageous of American statesmen, the voice of 20J 
a scholar and an old college professor, John Quincy Adams. 
Whittier's burning words scattered the sacred fire, Longfellow 
and Lowell mingled their songs with his, and Emerson gave 
to the cause the loftiest scholarly heart in the Union. And 
while Parker's and Beecher's pulpits echoed Jonathan May- 25 
hew's morning gun and fired words like cannon-balls, in the 
highest pulpit of America, foremost among the champions of 
liberty stood the slight and radiant figure of the scholarly 
son of Rhode Island, upon whom more than upon any of her 
children the mantle of Roger Williams had worthily fallen, 30 
William Ellery Channing. 

When the national debate was angriest, it was the scholar I 
of the Senate of the United States who held highest in his * ' 
undaunted hands the flag of humanit}^ and his country. 
While others bowed and bent and broke around him, the 35 
form of Charles Sumner towered erect. Commerce and 



George William Curtis. 295 

trade, the mob of the clubs and of the street, hissed and 
sneered at him as a pedantic dreamer and fanatic. No 
kind of insult and defiance was spared. But the unbending 
scholar revealed to the haughty foe an antagonist as proud 
5 and resolute as itself. He supplied what the hour de- 
manded, a sublime faith in liberty, the uncompromising 
spirit which interpreted the Constitution and the statutes for 
freedom and not for slavery. The fiery agitation became 
bloody battle. Still he strode on before. " I am only six 

10 weeks behind you," said Abraham Lincoln, the Western 
frontiersman, to the New England scholar; and along the 
path that the scholar blazed in the wild wilderness of civil 
war, the path of emancipation, and the constitutional equality 
of all citizens, his country followed fast to union, peace, and 

15 prosperity. The public service of this scholar was not less 
than that of any of his predecessors or any of his contem- 
poraries. Criticise him as you wall, mark every shadow 
you can find, 

" Though round his base the rolling clouds are spread, 
20 Eternal sunshine settles on his head," 

It would indeed be a sorrowful confession for this day 
and this assembly, to own that experience proves the air of 
the college to be suffocating to generous thought and heroic 
action. Here it would be especially unjust, for what son of 

25 this college does not proudly remember that when, in the 
Revolution, Rhode Island was the seat of war, the college 
boys left the recitation-room for the field, and the college 
became a soldiers' barrack and hospital ? And what son 
of any college in the land, what educated American, does 

30 not recall with grateful pride that legion of college youth 
in our own day — "Integer vitae scelerisque purus " — w^ho 
were not cowards or sybarites because they w^ere scholars, 
but whose consecration to the cause of country and man 
vindicated the words of John Milton, "A complete and 

35 generous education is that which fits a man to perform 



296 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

justly, skillfully, and magnanimously all the offices, both 
private and public, of peace and war " ? That is the praise 
of the American scholar. The glory of this day and of this 
Commencement season is that the pioneers, the courageous 
and independent leaders in public affairs, the great apostles 5 
of religious and civil liberty, have been, in large part, 
educated men, sustained by the sympathy of the educated 
class. 

But this is not true of the past alone. As educated 
America was the constructive power, so it is still the true 10 _ 
conservative force of the Republic. It is decried as priggish i 
and theoretical. But so Richard Henry Lee condemned 
the Constitution as the work of visionaries. They are 
always called visionaries who hold that morality is stronger 
than a majority. Goldwin Smith says that Cobden felt that 15 
at heart England was a gentleman and not a bully. So 
thinks the educated American of his own country. He has 
faith enough in the people to appeal to them against them- 
selves, for he knows that the cardinal condition of popular 
government is the ability of the people to see and correct 20 
their own errors. In a Republic, as the majority must 
control action, the majority tends constantly to usurp control 
of opinion. Its decree is accepted as the standard of right 
and wrong. To differ is grotesque and eccentric. To pro- 
test is preposterous. To defy is incendiary and revolution- 25 
ary. But just here interposes educated intelligence, and 
asserts the worth of self-reliance and the power of the 
individual. Gathering the wisdom of ages as into a sheaf 
of sunbeams, it shows that progress springs from the minor- 
ity, and that if it will but stand fast time will give it victory. 30 

It is the educated voice of the country which teaches 
patience in politics and strengthens the conscience of the 
individual citizen by showing that servility to a majority is as 
degrading as servility to a Sultan or a Grand Lama. Emer- 
son said that of all his friends he honored none more than a 35 
quiet old Quaker lady who, if she said yea and the whole 



ji 



George William Curtis. 297 

world said nay, still said yea. One of the pleasantest stories 

of Garfield is that of his speech to his constituents in which 

he quaintly vindicated his own independence. " I would do 

P anything to win your regard," he said, "but there is one 

5 man whose good opinion I must have above all, and without 

whose approval I can do nothing. That is the man wdth 

m whom I get up every morning and go to bed every night, 

K whose thoughts are my thoughts, whose prayers are my 

■ prayers; I cannot buy your confidence at the cost of his 

10 respect." Never was the scholarly Garfield so truly a man, 
so patriotically an American, and his constituents were 
prouder than ever of their representative who complimented 
them by asserting his own manhood. 

It is the same voice which exposes the sophists who 

15 mislead the mob and pitilessly scourges the demagogues 
who flatter it. "All men know more than any man," 
haughtily shout the larger and lesser Talleyrands. That is 
a French epigram, replies the scholar, but not a general 
truth. A crowd is not wiser than the wisest man in it. 

20 For the purposes of the voyage the crew does not know 
more than the master of the ship. The Boston town-meeting 
was not more sagacious than Sam Adams. " Vox populi 
vox Dei," screams the foaming rhetoric of the stump ; the 
voice of the people is the voice of God. The voice of the 

25 people in London, says history, declared against street- 
lamps and denounced inoculation as wanton wickedness. 
The voice of the people in Paris demanded the head of 
Charlotte Corday. The voice of the people in Jerusalem 
cried, " Away with Him ! crucify Him ! crucify Him ! " 

30 " God is on the side of the strongest battalions," sneers the 
party swindler who buys a majority with money or place. 
On the contrary, answers the cool critic, reading history and 
interpreting its lessons, God was with Leonidas, and not 
with Xerxes. He was with the exile John Robinson at 

35 Leyden, not with Laud and the hierarchy at Westminster. 
Despite Napoleon even battles are not sums in arithmetic. 



298 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

Strange that a general, half of whose success was due to a 
sentiment, the glory of France, which welded his army into 
a thunderbolt, and still burns for us in the fervid song of 
Beranger, should have supposed that it is numbers and not 
conviction and enthusiasm which win the final victory. The 5 
career of no man in our time illustrates this truth more 
signally than Garibaldi's. He was the symbol of the senti- 
ment which the wise Cavour molded into a nation, and he 
will be always canonized more universally than any other 
Italian patriot, because no other represents so purely and 10 
simply to the national imagination the Italian ideal of patri- 
otic devotion. His enthusiam of conviction made no calcu- 
lation of defeat, because while he could be baffled he could 
not be beaten. It was a stream flowing from a mountain 
height, which might be delayed or diverted, but knew in- 15 
stinctively that it must reach the sea. " Italia fard da se^ 
Garibaldi was that faith incarnate, and the prophecy is 
fulfilled. Italy, more proud than stricken, bears his bust to 
the Capitol, and there the eloquent marble will say, while 
Rome endures, that one man with God, with country, with 20 
duty and conscience, is at last the majority. 

But still further, it is educated citizenship which, while 
defining the rightful limitation of the power of the majority, 
is most loyal to its legitimate authority, and foremost always 
in rescuing it from the treachery of political peddlers and 25 
parasites. The rural statesmen who founded the Republic 
saw in vision a homogeneous and intelligent community, the 
peace and prosperity and intelligence of the State reflected 
in the virtue and wisdom of the government. But is this 
our actual America or a glimpse of Arcadia ? Is this the 3° 
United States or Plato's Republic or Harrington's Oceana or 
Sir Thomas More's Utopia ? What are the political maxims 
of the hour ? In Rome, do as the Romans do. Fight fire 
with fire. Beat the devil with his own weapons. Take men 
as they are, and don't affect superior goodness. Beware of 35 
the politics of the moon and of Sunday-school statesmanship. 



George William Curtis. 299 

This is our current political wisdom and the results are fami- 
liar. " This is a nasty State," cries the eager partisan, 
" and I hope we have done nasty work enough to carry it." 
"The conduct of the opposition," says another, "was infa- 
5 mous. They resorted to every kind of base and contemptible 
means, and, thank God, we have beaten them at their own 
game." The majority is overthrown by the political machin- 
ery intended to secure its will. The machinery is oiled by 
corruption and grinds the honest majority to powder. And 

10 it is educated citizenship, the wisdom and energy of men 
who are classed as prigs, pedants, and impracticables, which 
is first and most efficient in breaking the machinery and re- 
leasing the majority. It was this which rescued New York 
from Tweed, and which everywhere challenges and de- 

15 molishes a Tweed tyranny by whatever name it may be 
known. 

Every year at the college Commencement the American 
scholar is exhorted to do his duty. But every newspaper 
proves that he is doing it. For he is the most practical 

20 politican who shows his fellow-citizens, as the wise old 
sailor told his shipmates, that " God has somehow so fixed 
the world that a man can afford to do about right." Take 
from the country at this moment the educated power, which 
is contemned as romantic and sentimental, and you would 

25 take from the army its general, from the ship its compass, 
from national action its moral mainspring. It is not the 
demagogue and the shouting rabble ; it is the people heeding 
the word of the thinker and the lesson of experience, which 
secures the welfare of the American republic and enlarges 

30 human liberty. If American scholarship is not in place, it 
is in power. If it does not carry the election to-day, it de- 
termines the policy of to-morrow. Calm, patient, confident, 
heroic, in our busy and material life it perpetually vindicates 
the truth that the things which are unseen are eternal. So 

35 in the cloudless midsummer sky serenely shines the moon, 
while the tumultuous ocean rolls and murmurs beneath, the 



300 Addresses for Academic Occasions. 

type of illimitable and unbridled power ; but, resistlessly 
marshaled by celestial laws, all the wild waters, heaving 
from pole to pole, rise and recede, obedient to the mild queen 
of heaven. 

Brethren of Brown, we have come hither as our fathers 5 
came, as our children will come, to renew our observation 
of that celestial law ; and here, upon the old altar of fervid 
faith and boundless anticipation, let us pledge ourselves 
once more that, as the courage and energy of educated men 
fired the morning gun and led the contest of the Revolution, 10 
founded and framed the Union and, purifying it as with fire, 
have maintained the national life to this hour, so, day by 
day, we will do our part to lift America above the slough of 
mercenary politics and the cunning snares of trade, steadily 
forward toward the shining heights which the hopes of its 15 
nativity foretold. 



ADDRESSES 

ON 

SOCIAL QUESTIONS. 



No. I is a swift, clear analysis and exposition of a subject not well 
understood by the general public; noteworthy, also, because its appeal 
is almost entirely to the intellect, not to the prejudices, emotions, or 
special interests of the audience. 

No. II, " The Child and the State " is included, though it was never 
intended for delivery as an address, for contrasting in persuasive method 
with the address of Phillips Brooks, No. III. Mr. Field appealed mainly 
to the two selfish motives, love of money and self-defence; Phillips 
Brooks to religious and ethical sentiment. 



I. 

NORMAN HAPGOOD. 
The Drama in America To-day.^ 

Delivered before the Cincinnati Conference of Art and Literature, 
November lo, igo2. 

No art is looked upon, in England and America, from 
more diverse points of view than the acted drama. The 
number of persons who take it as a serious interest is small, 
far smaller than in Germany, Austria or France. Nobody 
5 of much education now regards the theatre as wicked, but 
large numbers deem it wasteful and frivolous, unworthy of 
the same attention that is bestowed upon literature, music 
and painting. There is another class, not so prominent 
intellectually, but of far larger numbers, which still thinks 

lo the theatre actually immoral. The existence of this class is 
not always suspected by Americans of a more modern spirit, 
but its importance is well-known to the theatrical manager. 
If a play can be manufactured which has the ordinary theat- 
rical appeal, the qualities which lie under most dramatic suc- 

15 cess, and yet something in it which will induce these con- 
servative masses to imagine that it is a moral lesson, they go 
in swarms, and a public is created estimated at about four 
times the size of the ordinary theatre-going public, and num- 
berless times the size of that tiny public which cares to use 

20 its mind or which has at all the appreciation of art. Hence 
the enormous success of plays like The Christian and Ben 
Hur. People think they are almost in church, while they 
actually enjoy pure melodrama, melodrama with spectacle in 
Ben Hur, melodrama in The Christian which adroitly uses 

25 the general love of impropriety. " One touch of indecency 

^ Reprinted by permission of Norman Hapgood, 



304 Addresses on Social Questions. 

makes the whole world kin," and when a literary trickster, 
like Hall Caine, can serve that dish, garnished with imita- 
tion virtue, the box-office will hardly hold the money. 

Now the theatre has nothing to gain from those who look 
upon the playhouse in itself as immoral. No art has any- 5 
thing to gain from them. The Puritans set the drama back 
for centuries in England. If the stage is to be improved in 
our language it must be through the people who love art 
more than preaching, but who know that most of the plays 
presented to us lack every element of genuine art. The 10 
stage in America will be a worthy and a stimulating influence, 
a part of national enlightenment, when it appeals to those 
who love good books, good statues, good music, and not 
before. There is little use in discussing the purely moral 
aspects of the drama. Intellectual standards are the ones 15 
to apply. The highest drama of the day is in Germany, yet 
the leading dramatists of that country often produce plays 
which in this country would be deemed improper. Why ? 
Simply because the audiences which see them here are less 
cultivated than those which see them in Germany. Some of 20 
Sudermann's ablest plays, of the highest real morality, such as 
Sodom's Ende or Johannisfeuer, would be entirely con- 
demned here, on account of their intellectual frankness. 
The latest one, Es Lebe das Leben, which Mrs. Patrick 
Campbell is playing in an admirable literary translation by 25 
the celebrated novelist, Edith Wharton, has had a better 
fate, partly because, although its real meaning is startling 
enough, this significance can be overlooked. Nevertheless, 
there were critics in New York who had nightmares be- 
cause the heroine strayed from the designated path. These 30 
critics are even troubled by Magda. Now, at their best, 
tragedy has always pictured the consequences of sin, and 
comedy has always ridiculed the absurdities of vice. The 
very men who are afraid of Hauptmann and Sudermann 
speak glibly of the merits of Shakespeare, Racine, and 35 
Moliere ; of Tartuffe, Phedre, and Measure for Measure, 



Norman Hapgood. 305 

What spasms they would have if such themes were handled 
to-day. 

It all depends upon the treatment, the depth, the sanity. 
Morality is more safely based upon intelligence than on 
5 prudery. The superficial, sentimental appeal does small 
good to any one. Go to a melodrama in which the heroine, 
passing through impossible adventures and impossible rhet- 
oric, keeps her robe unsoiled. Who responds most emotion- 
ally to such appeals ? Who but the ladies of a type the 

I o direct antithesis of the heroine whose virtue they applaud ? 
In the theatre you do not elevate people by preaching to 
them. You may do so by educating them. It is exactly 
similar to our school and college systems. Church and 
school are separate. We believe in general education in 

15 this country. We believe that the way to elevate the whole 
character and life of the people is to feed and stimulate their 
intelligences. We do not read them sermons or teach them 
ethics in school. We train and store their minds. 

Intelligence then, and art, are what the stage most needs, 

20 superior minds writing plays, a public which enforces high 
standards. 

How does the actual situation correspond ? In Cincinnati 
what do you have that adds to the education of your children 
or the intellectual pleasure of the cultivated ? Some things 

25 may be encouraging as happy straws, as faint signs of the 
future, but obviously they mean no constant exhibition of 
important works of literature, of new thought or old tradition, 
constituting part of the intellectual life of the intelligent, as 
the dramxa does in Paris, Berlin and Vienna, where the young 

30 receive much of their training in the theatre and the old 
much of their satisfaction. 

Is the situation different in New York? The great metro- 
politan successes in recent years have been largely musical 
burlesque, which frequently contains pretty girls and much 

35 cheerful idiocy, which is better than bad plays, but hardly 
takes the place of good ones. The most original development 



306 Addresses on Social Questions. 

of the theatre in America is in the Hne of pure distrac- 
tion, and the best illustration of it is Weber and Fields. 
The theatre legitimately offers all grades of entertainment. 
It is not a misfortune that Weber and Fields are popular ; 
they deserve to be. The misfortune is that other grades are 5 
completely ignored. It is as if in music we had good comic 
songs and no symphonies or grand opera ; as if in painting 
we had good newspaper cartoons and no landscape or por- 
traits ; as if in books we had an excellent collection of jokes, 
and no history, biography or literature. 10 

The weary business man goes to a comic opera or to 
Weber and Fields, and is happy. Let him go there. It 
is the place for him. He would of necessity be bored at a 
play which asked his tired mind for thought. It is the 
penalty he pays for being tired; for giving all his mental 15 
activity to earning money. It is the favorite place also of 
the fashionable rich, next to their boxes at the opera. They 
dine late and ask of the theatre but an afterpiece to dinner 
which shall rescue them from the ennui of conversation. In 
their class, however, recruits for the higher drama are to be 20 
sought, for the first requisite of artistic enjoyment is some 
amount of leisure, superfluous energy instead of fatigue. 
Every year finds more of the rich who welcome the superior 
drama, even if it forces them to dine at seven. The progress 
is slow, but progress exists. 25 

Now, what else is there in New York to-day ? On leaving 
the city I put a newspaper in my pocket, and read the an- 
nouncements. Being no longer a dramatic critic I had not 
seen all the " offerings," but I had seen enough. A few 
days before a friend had asked me what was worth seeing. 30 
''Do you know German?" I asked. He did. "Well," I 
said, " go to the Irving Place Theatre any time. Now and 
then you will see a bad play, now and then a careless per- 
formance, but on the whole you will find there the only real 
dramatic atmosphere in America, the only substance and 35 
manner that make you feel as if you were in presence of the 



Norman Hapgood. 307 

best ; that make you feel as you do when you read Shake- 
speare or hear Beethoven, rather than as you do when you 
read comic papers, the Fireside Co7np anion or the almanac." 
But let us be fair. On this New York list of plays most 
5 were comic opera, musical comedy, farce, variety, but on it 
also was Everyman, one of the noblest revivals of our day. 
To be sure it was imported, but the fact that Mr. Charles 
Frohman, w^ho, I imagine, hardly knows a morality play from 
a Methodist revival, cared to import it merely because he 

10 wished the praise of enlightened people, such as he had 
heard given to it in London, indicates an advance. The 
present race of managers can never do much that is inter- 
esting. They are too untutored and too mercantile, but even 
they will do better, and their endeavors will find a public 

15 with more exacting demands. To be sure, nobody in New 
York went to see Everyman. It has been less of a success 
than in London. I met a man just after he had been to see 
it. " There were nineteen people in the house," he said. 
" Du Barry is crowded. That show^s New York and the real 

20 level of our civilization. Boston w^ould do better, Chicago 
w^ould do better. New York," he went on, "is an almost 
hopeless city. It is Sodom. It is Babylon." Everyman, 
however, did better as people learned that the city con- 
tained something really beautiful, and in its two remaining 

25 w^eeks I trust it may do better still. 

For the mediocre condition of the American drama the 
Theatrical Syndicate has been widely blamed. Much blame 
it certainly deserves, but not always of the kind that is 
applied to it. The mere love of cheap melodrama, French 

30 farce, and musical comedy w^hich characterizes these man- 
agers, their ignorance, bad taste and mechanical conception 
of acting is not the w^orst side of their influence. Common- 
place amusement will always be demanded. It exists in 
Germany, it exists where the drama is high, but it exists side 

35 by side with better things. The most evil aspect of the 
Syndicate is its pow^r, its controlling influence. It is so 



308 Addresses on Social Questions. 

nearly a monopoly that producing outside of it is an under- 
taking so hazardous that few will venture. 

This is an age of combinations. Even in business they 
are in many ways a menace. In art they would be fatal. 
In the drama nothing would do more good than the disin- 5 
tegration of this Trust and the variety that would result. 
Leaving each star and manager free to follow his own 
nature would inevitably work toward more effort to meet the 
tastes of the educated minority. Therefore the new organ- 
ization headed by Mrs. Fiske, Mr. Hackett and Miss Cros- 10 
man, designed to loosen the hold of the Trust is worthy of 
all encouragement. 

At this point it may perhaps be excusable to clear away a 
misunderstanding. When I decided, a short time ago, to 
abandon dramatic criticism, I was struck by the manner in 15 
which the press and my personal friends agreed in attribu- 
ting the change to the hopelessness of the present theatrical 
situation. "To be sure," said one, " why waste your time 
on such idiocy?" "What," said another, "is the sense in 
writing reasonably about plays that have no reason in 20 
them ? " And so on, from every side. I totally disagree 
with that point of view. The time when much good can be 
done by protest is exactly now, when the situation is so 
obviously, so ridiculously inappropriate to a country so much 
alive to educational and intellectual opportunities as ours. 25 
I abandoned the theatre because I had other work which 
required all my attention, but this seems to me a time when 
any writer of conviction can do much good in the field of 
dramatic criticism. 

Our country is most genuinely interested in education. 30 
An observant Englishman remarked to me recently that no 
matter what topic he began, with a cultivated American, the 
conversation speedily shifted to some problems of education. 
"Well," said I, "why not? It is the most important group 
of questions confronting us to-day." Materially, our civili- 35 
zation is a success. In matters of trade and money compe- 



Norman Hapgood. 309 

tition we are victors. In the race for wealth we have 
proved our strength. But we have other tests still to meet. 
You remember the famous question of Sidney Smith, " In 
the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American book, 
5 or goes to an American play, or sees an American picture or 
statue?" He spoke those words in 1820. It is less true 
now, but still true, that in the ideal world we are scarcely 
competitors. Mr. Carnegie offers his contribution toward 
the solution, with his myriad libraries. Mr. Morgan shows 

10 his sense of responsibility in large purchases of works of 
art. President Eliot sets the whole country talking about 
the effect of our lower grade schooling on conduct. Presi- 
dent Wilson makes an equal stir about the same time, and 
President Butler goes Harvard one year better in favoring 

15 the cutting down of the traditional discipline of education 
for the newer and more practical theories. In industrial 
education we are surpassed only by Germany. In the South 
we are face to face with terrifying problems of race. Politi- 
cally we are struggling to lift our people beyond standards 

20 which are satisfied by Tammany Hall. Thus everywhere, in 
every form, thought about American conditions leads to 
thought about education. 

The theatre, in its modest way, deserves to be considered 
with this same scope, as an influence on general thought, on 

25 public feeling, on the whole standard of education. Schiller 
believed that no one of the other arts had so wide an influ- 
ence. Clergymen everywhere are beginning to make state- 
ments even more radical. In our country, therefore, where 
education, in all its branches, is taken so seriously, is it not 

30 an anomaly that this popular art should be excepted ? The 
theatre should have a function beside the museum, the opera 
house, and the library. A superior drama is one of the 
ornaments, perhaps even one of the requisites, of a complete 
civilization. A people is not properly enlightened until its 

35 amusements are part of its enlightenment. It has not won 
the ideal elements until its art, its idealized thought, is part 



310 Addresses on Social Questions. 

of its enjoyment. American civilization, with all its economic 
vigor and political health, will not be complete until we stop 
to create and to enjoy the ideal. In that progress toward 
light and beauty, one thread wdll be w^hat has been until 
lately the most popular branch of literature — the drama. 
One individual, one generation, can do but a little ; yet it is 
worth remembering that in demanding a more worthy repre- 
sentation of literature upon the stage, where all classes enjoy 
it, we are doing our part, not for the theatre alone, but for 
the general artistic temper of the nation. 



II. 
DAVID DUDLEY FIELD. 

The Child and the State.^ 

" The Homeless Boy " is the title of a wood-cut circulated 
by the Children's Aid Society. It is a sad picture. The 
little waif sits on a stone step, with his head bent over and 
resting on his hands, stretched across bare knees, his flow- 
ing hair covering his face, and his tattered clothes and bare 15 
feet betokening utter wretchedness. Turning the leaf, we 
are informed that twenty dollars will enable the society to 
give the boy a home. 

Can this picture be real and the statement true ? The 
picture is too real, and that the statement is made in good 20 
faith and for reasons sufficient, we have the guaranty of the 
society's good name and the known fidelity of its excellent 
secretary, Mr. Brace. 

How many of such homeless children are there in the city 
of New York ? We are told that there are at least twelve 25 
thousand under twelve years of age ; seven thousand of them 

^ Reprinted from The Works of David Dudley Field by permission of 
Messrs. D. Appleton & Co. 



David Dudley Field. 311 

having no shelter, not knowing at morning where they can 
sleep at night, and the rest having only shelters revolting to 
behold. Less than $250,000 then would give them all 
decent and comfortable homes. Every night that these 
5 twelve thousand children are wandering in the streets or 
lurking about rum-shops and dance-houses, or huddled in 
dens that are as foul in air as they are foul in occupants, 
that sum many times over is spent in superfluous luxury. 
Rich parlors and wide halls are filled nightly with pleasure- 

10 seekers, where the air is sweetened with the perfume of 
flowers, music wafted with the perfume, and the light is like 
*' a new morn risen on mid noon." The voice of mirth in 
the ball-room drowns the wail of the children beyond, and 
when the night pales into morning, the dancers go home 

15 rejoicing and the children go about the streets. Surely 
there must be something wrong with our civilization, our 
Christian civilization, so long as these strange contrasts are 
permitted to last. 

It is not for the lack of sympathy or Christian charity. 

20 New York is charitable and generous beyond most cities, 
and I think I might have said beyond any city of Christen- 
dom, which is as much as to say beyond any city of the 
earth. Private charity is great and association for public 
charity is greater. On every hand are asylums, retreats, dis- 

25 pensaries ; more than a hundred institutions organized for 
the relief of poverty and suffering ; associations for mutual 
help established in all trades and nearly all professions ; and 
over four hundred churches have their societies and com- 
mittees in aid of needy members. How, then, is it that we 

30 behold this dreadful apparition of helpless and innocent 
suffering, these homeless children, who, by no fault of their 
own, are in want of food, clothing and shelter, and are lurk- 
ing in corners or scattered in the streets. It is because there 
is not a wider knowledge of the extent of the evil and a closer 

35 study of the means to counteract it. 
Let us enter into some details. 



312 Addresses on Social Questions. 

In one of the tenement houses of the city, and their 
number is legion, there is a room, nineteen feet long, fifteen 
feet broad and eleven high, where live a man and his wife 
and eight children. They sleep, dress, wash, cook and eat 
in this one room. These ten persons have altogether thirty- 5 
one hundred and thirty-five cubic feet of air, while the law 
requires at least six thousand feet — nearly twice as much as 
they get. From tenement houses like this there flows out 
daily a stream of children, ragged and dirty, to pick up rags, 
cigar stumps, and other refuse of the streets, or to pilfer or 10 
beg, as best they can. This is not the place to describe the 
horrors of the tenement house, nor to discuss the duty or 
failure of duty on the part of the state in respect of its con- 
struction and occupation. I ask attention only to the condi- 
tion of the children, and for illustration take the case of a 15 
boy, five years old, who is found, in a chill November day, 
barefooted, scantily clothed, searching among the rag heaps 
in the street. He is a well-formed child, his face is fair, 
and as he turns his bright eyes upon you when you ask him 
where he lives, you see that he has quick intelligence. Alto- 20 
gether he is such a child as a father should look upon with 
pride and a true mother would press to her bosom. Yet 
the parents are miserably poor, the father half the time out 
of work, and the mother wan with the care of her family. * 
This is not all. Father and mother both drink to excess, 25 
and each is intoxicated as often at least as Saturday night 
comes round. 

Has the state any duties toward this little boy, and if so I 
what are they ? | 

All will agree that it has some duty, at least that of pro- 30 \ 
tection from personal violence. May it go further, and 4 
rescue the child from its loathsome occupation, its contami- 
nating surroundings and its faithless parents ? I think that 
it may, and having the right, that it is charged with the duty 
of rescuing the child. This is a large subject, larger indeed 35 
than can be fully treated in this paper, but some of the j 



David Dudley Field. 313 

reasons for my opinion shall be stated. At the outset, let 
me say that I am not a believer in the paternal theory of 
government. The great ends for which men are associated 
in political communities are mutual protection, and the con- 
5 struction of those public works, of which roads and bridges 
are examples, for which individuals are not competent. The 
state should interfere as little as possible with the economy 
of the family and the liberty of the individual to pursue his 
own happiness in his own Avay. And as a general rule par- 

10 ents are the best guardians of their children. The family is 
the prim.aeval institution of the race. The love of the parent 
is the strongest of motives for the care of the child. But 
when parental love fails, and the offspring is either aban- 
doned or educated in vice, the state may rightfully intervene. 

15 Its right is derived from its duty to protect itself and to pro- 
tect all its people. 

I am not deducing the right of interference from an 
unpulse of the heart, though that be the foundation on 
which our hospitals and almshouses are built, but I place it 

20 upon the inherent and all-pervading right of protection and 
self-defense. Charity is an individual privilege ; the impulse 
is an individual gift from Heaven. The state is not founded 
for charity, but for protection. The dictate of humanity is 
without doubt to take a child from an unfaithful parent and 

25 give it the training most likely to lead to an honest and 
industrious life. This is to transfer the child from an un- 
clean home to one that is clean, from indecency to decency, 
from foul air to pure, from unhealthy food to that which is 
healthy, from evil v/ays to good. Who can doubt that the 

30 greatest good which can be done to a child neglected by its 
parent or taught beggary or crime, is to take it from the 
wicked parent, and give it into the care of one who will 
teach it, not only the rudiments of learning, but honest labor. 
In what other way can we better follow the example of the 

35 Divine Master than by caring for these little ones, who are 
unable to take care of themselves ? 



314 Addresses on Social Questions. 

Protection, however, is the foundation of the right I am 
asserting. We must of course have a care that interference 
for protection be not carried beyond its rightful Umits. If 
any general rule could be laid down for marking these limits 
it would perhaps be this, that the state should not invade 5 
one man's rights in order to protect another's. What the 
individual can do for himself the state should not undertake. 
But in the case supposed, the faithless parent has forfeited 
his right to his child, and the only point to be considered is 
the relation of the child to the state. This relation involves 10 
considerations of economy and of safety, each of which may 
be considered by itself. 

The question of economy has political and social aspects. 
The prevention of crime and the punishment of the criminal 
impose upon the state some of its heaviest burdens. The 15 
cost of the police, of the courts and the prisons, makes one 
of the longest items in the roll of public expenditure. In 
the year ending September 30, 1885, the maintenance of the 
three state prisons cost about $400,000. Besides these pris- 
ons, there are penitentiaries at New York, Brooklyn, Albany, 20 
Syracuse, Rochester and Buffalo, and there is a county 
prison in each county. What all these cost there are no 
readily accessible statistics to tell. The yearly cost of the 
police in the city of New York is about $3,700,000, and that 
of the criminal courts $300,000. The cost, defrayed from 25 
the city treasury, of prisons, reformatories, asylums, and 
other charitable institutions is over $3,000,000. The ex- 
pense of prisons alone is wdth difficulty separated from the 
rest. These are approximate figures. It is hard to find out 
how much the people of this state, in all their municipalities 30 
and political divisions, pay for police, courts and prisons. 
We know that the amount is appalling. Much of this, how 
much cannot be told, might be saved by fulfilling the scrip- 
tural injunction : " Train up a child in the way he should go, 
and when he is old he will not depart from it." 35 

The question of safety is more vital still. Every one of 



David Dudley Field. 315 

these boys may be a voter ten or twenty years hence. His 
vote will then be as potent as yours or mine. In countries 
where the sovereign is a prince it has ever been thought 
prudent to bestow special care upon the training of an heir 
5 to the throne. Here the people are sovereign, and the little 
boy, now wandering about the streets, neglected or led astray, 
is in one sense joint heir to a throne. Every dictate of 
prudence points to his being fitted to fulfill the duties of his 
station. Who can say that if duly cared for he may not 

I o grow to the stature of a leader of the people ranking with the 
foremost men of his time, a benefactor of the race, a teacher 
of great truths, a helper of the helpless, a brave soldier in the 
*' sacramental host of God's elect." If, on the other hand, 
he is left to himself in the swift current of want and vice, 

15 floating in the scum of sewers and the company of thieves, 
he will prove a scourge to the state, and may bring up in a 
prison, or perchance on the scaffold. 

For this reason, and the one preceding, it should seem to 
be the duty of the community to look after children whose 

20 parents abandon them or lead them into evil ways, or are 
incapable of taking care of them. 

We have already in many instances acted upon a like 
theory. The compulsory education acts, the corporations 
formed to prevent cruelty to children, and the unincorpo- 

25 rated societies organized for their relief, are so many agen- 
cies established upon this principle. Take, for example, the 
eighth section of the elementary education act of 1874, as 
amended in 1876: which provides that the board of educa- 
tion in each city and incorporated village, and the trustees 

30 of the school districts and union school in each town, by the 
vote of a majority at a meeting called for the purpose, shall 
make all needful regulations concerning habitual truants and 
children between the ages of eight and fourteen, who may be 
found wandering about the streets or public places during 

35 school hours, having no lawful occupation or business, and 
growing up in ignorance ; the regulations to be such as in 



3i6 Addresses on Social Questions. 

the judgment of the Board will be conducive to the welfare 
of the children, and to the good order of the city or town, 
and to be approved by a judge of the Supreme Court. Suit- 
able places are to be provided for the discipline, instruction 
and confinement, when necessary, of the children, and the 5 
aid of the police of cities, or incorporated villages, and con- 
stables of towns, may be required to enforce the regulations. 
The Penal Code makes it a crime to desert a child " with 
intent wholly to abandon it" (Sec. 287), or to omit without 
lawful excuse to perform a duty imposed by law to " furnish 10 
food, clothing, shelter or medical attendance " (Sec. 288), 
or willfully to permit a child's " life to be endangered, or its 
health to be injured, or its morals to become depraved " 
(Sec. 289), or " the child to be placed in such a situation or 
to engage in such an occupation " as that any of these things 15 
may happen. Another section (291) provides that a child 
under sixteen who is found '' gathering or picking rags, cigar 
stumps, bones or refuse from markets," or without a home, 
or improperly exposed or neglected, or in a state of want or 
suffering or destitute of means of support, being an orphan 20 
or being in certain immoral company, " must be arrested and 
brought before a proper court or magistrate as a vagrant, 
disorderly or destitute child." The Code of Criminal Pro- 
cedure (Sec. 887) declares, as vagrant, any child between 
five and fourteen, " having sufficient bodily health and 25 
mental capacity to attend the public schools, found wander- 
ing in the streets or lanes of any city or incorporated village, 
a truant without any lawful occupation;" and it provides in 
the next section (888), that when a complaint is made 
against any such vagrant, the magistrate must cause the 30 
child and its parent to be brought before him, and may 
order the parent to take care of the child, and if he does 
not, " the magistrate shall, by warrant, commit the child to 
such place as shall be provided for his reception." If no 
such place has been provided, the child must be committed 35 
to the almshouse of the county, and a child so committed 



David Dudley Field. 317 

may be bound out as an apprentice. A child found beg- 
ging (Sec. 893) must be committed to the poorhouse, and 
there kept at useful labor until duly discharged or bound 
out. 
5 These are very sweeping provisions, but they are said to 
fail of the effect intended, by reason of defects in the 
machinery for working them. Indeed, the theory upon 
which they are framed is in some respects erroneous. A 
child under twelve should never be treated as a criminal 

10 except after conviction for crime, in the few cases in which 
a child between seven and twelve may be convicted. To 
treat him as a criminal leaves a stigma, which after years do 
not efface. A friend who visited lately one of the reforma- 
tory schools in Boston described an inspection of the in- 

15 mates, noting in particular the bearing of a little boy, three 
years old, who went through the exercises with the greatest 
spirit, intelligence, and glee. Should this little child be 
classed with criminals, brought into contact with them, or 
be exposed ever to be told that he had been so classed ? 

20 Our laws now use in regard to such a child the expressions 
" arrest," " prefer complaint," " bring before a magistrate 
for hearing," and the like. When the word " arrest " is 
used in respect of legal process it is darkened with the 
shadow of criminality. Why not say " take," or better still 

25 " rescue." A child under seven years of age is, and one 
between seven and twelve is presumed to be, incapable of 
committing crime. A policeman finding such a child home- 
less should be required to bring him before an officer 
specially charged with the duty of examining such cases, not 

30 a police justice. The state would thus appear to take the 
child under its protection as one of its wards or children. 
Such should be the treatment of every child under twelve 
years of age, whatever might be the circumstances ; and the 
same officer should be the one to decide in the first instance 

35 whether a child between seven and twelve should be sent to 
a criminal magistrate. 



3i8 Addresses on Social Questions. 

When a child not charged with crime is brought before 
such an officer and is shown to be abused or abandoned, 
what should be done with him and with the parent ? The 
latter should be required to support the child, so far as the 
law can make him responsible. The like is required of 5 
persons classed as disorderly by Section 901 of the Code of 
Criminal Procedure, and under the education acts is also 
required of parents who fail to send their children to school. 
How to reach the parent is a question for the criminal law, 
with which we are not dealing at present. But for the child, 10 
what should be done with him ? Most certainly he should 
be placed in a healthy and sufficient home and taught the _, 
rudiments of knowledge and honest ways. Here the state ■ 
should seek the aid of private charity, acting through incor- 
porated institutions, because the state can in this way best 15 
control the institutions, and look after the treatment and wel- 
fare of the children. These agencies are sufficient for the 
present and may be sufficient always. Show the people the 
way in which they can best help the outcast, and their 
benevolence will supply the motive. 20 

If these views are sound, they lead logically to the follow- 
ing conclusions : 

I. That there should be a public guardian of homeless 
children under twelve years of age, whose duty it should be 
to find out the condition and treatment of those brought 25 
before him, and when he sees that they require it, to place 
them in some institution incorporated for the care of such 
children, to be kept there or sent by them to homes here or 
in other states. In the category of homeless children may 
be included not only orphans without homes, but all children 30 
under twelve years of age who are abandoned by their 
parents or so neglected or abused as to require that they 
should be taken in charge. 

II. That every police officer should be required and 
every citizen should be permitted to bring a homeless child 35 
before this guardian. 



f 



Phillips Brooks. 319 

III. That a child under seven years of age should never 
under any circumstances be treated as a criminal, and a 
child between seven and twelve should not be so treated 
until he has been examined by the guardian and by him 
5 sent to the criminal magistrate. No child under twelve 
should ever be left in the society of criminals under any cir- 
cumstances whatever. 

This paper has already reached the limit intended. It 
has not gone into particulars : on the contrary, it has been 

10 carefully confined to certain general propositions. Their 
development and execution are matters of detail. The aim 
of the article is attained, if it has helped to impress upon 
the reader this lesson, partly social and partly political: 
Take care of the children and the men and women will take 

15 care of themselves. 



III. 

PHILLIPS BROOKS. 

Address at a Meeting in Behalf of the Children's Aid 
Society/ 

Philadelphia^ Pa., January ^o, i8g2. 

Mr. President, Ladies, and Gentlemen : To anyone who 
has had the privilege for many happy years, although it were 
many years ago, of watching the spontaneous and delightful 
generosity of the citizens of Philadelphia, it is indeed a great 
20 delight to come back and recognize that which he knew well 
enough to be the fact, that in the years that have come 
between that great, rich stream of benevolence and ever- 
thoughtful generosity has been widening and deepening. It 
is just exactly as when one comes back, having made a 

^ Reprinted, by permission of E. P. Button & Co., from Essays and 
Addresses^ Phillips Brooks. 



320 Addresses on Social Questions. 

journey across lots, and finds again a great stream by whose 
side he has journeyed before, in whose company he has 
rejoiced, and sees how it has grown richer and deeper in the 
courses in which he has been separated from it. 

You told us, sir, at the beginning of this meeting, of the 5 
two purposes of such a meeting as this. One of them is the 
gathering up of the report of what has been accomplished by 
such a society as this, and the distinct recognition, by those 
who have not had the opportunity of knowing much about it 
before, of what the methods of its working are. The first 10 
purpose of such a meeting is information. I cannot help 
thinking we have been richly supplied with information here 
this evening. We have seen what this society does ; that its 
work is a simple work. It is an effort everywhere to rein- 
state into the system of our human life that little atom which 15 
has been in any way separated from it. Nothing lives except 
in the system to which it belongs. Nothing lives except it is 
natural. Nothing is natural absolutely by itself. Nothing is 
natural except it be taken into the system of nature in which 
it naturally inheres and follows the movement of the whole 20 
about it. And so the whole meaning of our society is that 
any little atom of our humanity which has been cast out of the 
rich and ever-swelling system of our human life shall be just as 
far and just as quickly as possible reinstated where it belongs. 
Everything we have heard from the good doctor, who let us 25 
look into the deep and awful secrets which belong to the life 
of this society, from its managers, from its treasurer, every- 
thing we have heard shows us that perpetual effort of good 
women and true men to reinstate into its true place the atom 
of our human life which has been separated from the con- 30 
dition and position in which it belongs. 

The second object of such a meeting as this was to stir enthu- 
siasm, so you told us. In other words, it is to see the rich- 
ness and the beauty and the glory of that which we are doing. 
We lose ourselves in the midst of multitudinous details. We 35 
lose ourselves in those things which are absolutely essential, 



f 



Phillips Brooks, 321 

and those things without which Hfe in a society such as 
this cannot possibly exist, but which, when we have buried 
ourselves in the midst of them, too often obscure the very rich 
meaning which belongs to the whole. We want to feel the 
5 glory of such a work as this which this society is doing. It 
seems to me also that we want to do that which I always feel 
impelled to do when I have the privilege of saying a word or 
two at the close of a meeting such as this. I want to give the 
thanks of this community, and the thanks of all that this com- 

10 munity represents, for it is impossible in the rich communica- 
tion of life in which we live with one another to separate 
ourselves into communities and think anything can be done 
in Philadelphia for which Massachusetts and Illinois and 
Georgia are not the richer. We want to recognize the thank- 

1 5 fulness which every part of our country owes to those willing 
to step forward in this work. Truly it is very little you and 
I can do, to come here on a pleasant evening for an hour or 
two and praise and rejoice in the work that has been done, 
and make our contributions to the continuance of that work, 

20 when we think what it is they are doing who have summoned 
us here. They have gone forward. They have taken the 
brunt of the labor. They have given anxious care, they have 
given perpetual devotion to this work to which we now say 
Godspeed, and to which in the proper time I am sure you 

25 will not refuse your abundant assistance. 

It almost seems to me like the old days in Philadelphia 
which come back to me from the time I walked her streets, 
when we sat here at home and felt beating the pulse of war 
at the front, when we rejoiced for every little thing we could 

30 do to make the soldiers at the front know our hearts were 
with them, to let them understand it was not in any supine 
indifference, not in any sense that the great work which they 
were doing belonged to them and not to us, that we dared to 
take that place which many of us look back upon now almost 

35 with shame. At least we rejoiced then for everything we could 
do to cheer their souls and strengthen their arms. So let it be 



322 Addresses on Social Questions. 

with those who stand forward here and voluntarily with noble 
consecration undertake this labor which belongs to the con- 
duct of a great work like this. Let them not lack the per- 
petual Godspeed and the continual assistance and support of 
those who simply watch and bless what they are doing. 5 

It is impossible for us to see the limits of a work like this. 
As one studies the lessons of such things as have been said to 
us to-night, how his thought opens into the future ! The 
richness of these days in which we live is that it is impossible 
for us not to anticipate the future. I think there have been lo 
certain ages in the world's history in which there has been 
almost no anticipation of things to come, when it seemed 
almost as if men lived in the days in which they were espe- 
cially situated and did not look forward, did not feel that the 
present is inseparably bound to the future, and that it was 15 
impossible to live in the present worthily unless they antici- 
pated the future. There have been times in the world's 
history in which it seemed almost that was the case, but it 
has absolutely ceased now. In the end of the nineteenth 
century surely we do look forward into the twentieth century. 20 
Peering into the vast distance, let us try to anticipate the 
days that are going to be. It seems to me one of the great 
things in the minds of people to-day in the anticipation of the 
future is the great, rich, solemn fear which anticipates the 
great future with anxiety because it sees the larger forces 25 
which are going to work there. 

It is impossible for us to look into a child's face to-day and 1 1 
not think of the fifty years in which that child is to live, if its 
life shall be spared to fulfil the normal length of human life 
upon earth, of the great forces that are coming into existence, 30 
the great powers that are taking possession of this earth both 
in its physical and moral and spiritual life, the great powers 
that are shaking the old systems, so that we see that what- 
ever is to come upon the world, the old systems have had 
their day and are ceasing to be, and something new is to come. 35 
There is electricity in the air that those of the future are to 



Phillips Brooks. 323 

breathe, dynamite in the soil over which they are to tread, 
deeper forces stirring all that soil, changing the most absolute 
conclusions of human life, everything that seems most settled 
being disorganized, questions that seemed forever closed 
5 being opened. It is impossible that men shall look forward 
without fear. The man simply declares himself an animal, 
the man simply declares himself incapable of thoughtful 
anticipation, who does not look forward into the days that 
immediately are to be and the days that lie further off, and 

10 feel a great, deep anxiety. 

It is not a cruel thing, it is not a base thing, it is not 
a thing for which a man dare to be ashamed for a 
moment, that something that really proves him a man 
makes him anticipate with great joy that which he at 

15 the same time anticipates with great anxiety. This world 
so wonderful in which we live, it is impossible for any man 
to think of it with nobleness — it is impossible for any 
man to think of it with loftiness and not at the same time 
to think of it both with fea^ and hope. We rejoice in the 

20 great forces that are ever taking possession of it. We rejoice 
that the years to come are going to be greater than the years 
that have been, and yet we know that in them there is much 
that threatens danger. The man who lives in this world with- 
out a sense of danger lives but an animal and a brutal life. 

25 The man who lives in this world without a sense of danger 
lives also without a sense of opportunity, for in every world 
of God that we have ever known the two are absolutely 
bound together, and it is impossible to separate them from 
each other. Now, one of the things which impresses itself, 

30 it seems to me, is that this perpetual sense which we see in 
every thoughtful face and recognize in every thoughtful mind, 
that sense of danger in the days to be, has also a strange 
beauty. The recurrence of evils permanent and eternal pro- 

. motes the strongest human life. Men do not know what the 

^35 effect of these new elements will be, and therefore they are 
being thrown back again, as they never perhaps have been, 



I 



324 Addresses on Social Questions. 

certainly not for many generations before, upon the simplest 
and most primal forces of human life, certain that in them, 
however impossible it may be for any man, however wise 
he is, to anticipate their application, in them must lie the 
real safety of human life in the dangers in which it is going 5 
to be launched forth on that new century whose brink we 
have almost reached. We come back to those great, ever- 
lasting, primitive, primal things which must be the salvation 
of the world in the future as in the past. 

This world of ours may have this great characteristic, that j o 
it is at once most complicated in its conception of life and at 
the same time it grows more and more to put great stress and 
value upon the everlasting, primal, simplest things of human 
life. It seems to me all this comes directly into application 
with that which we are thinking about to-night. The world 1 5 
is to be full of complications which we cannot read. What is 
to keep the world safe in the midst of all these dangers ? 
The great, everlasting, primal things underlying history. In 
new regions of danger, amid forces of greater comprehensive- 
ness than ever before, it is human character. It is the simple 20 
nature of man, known in his divineness as the child of God. 
It is the relation in which man stands in intimate affection and 
in perpetual and mutual dependence upon his fellow-man. It 
is the state largely organized and simplified with the great 
idea of democracy or government of the people. It is the 25 
constitution of human society as man stands most intimately 
and at the same time most simply related to his fellow-man. 
It is the family made more noble and divine in order that it 
may be the saving element of the great complications of the 
future even more than it has been in any of the ages of the 30 
past. And in connection with all this it is childhood with its 
power estimated, its dignity maintained, its critical impor- 
tance made manifest. With the care for every human crea- 
ture recognized as the duty of every other human creature, 
he can touch any human creature that needs care with his 35 
help. 



Phillips Brooks. 325 

This seems to me to be the secret of the whole matter that 
is behind the fear for the future, that great proven faith 
which I do beheve is at the bottom of the heart of man 
to-day more than in any age that has ever passed, the great 
proven faith in the simple, primal forces of humanity and 
society, the government of the family and of God. They are 
going to be the preservation of the future as they have 
been the preservation of the past. Because the bad child 
in the next ten years is going to be capable of doing more 

10 evil than the bad child has been able to do in any past 
years, therefore it is that men go back again and fasten 
themselves upon those great things to which they have some- 
times been indifferent ; therefore it is that they are appealed 
to by the absolute simplicity of a society like this. What is 

[5 it that it is trying to do ? Simply to take the child and make 
him a child again. Simply to bring him back to those days 
of bright, sunny innocence, of the freshness of human life, to 
bring him back again so that he may fulfil the first period of 
human life and carry forth into it the indestructible power 

20 with which the subsequent periods of his human life are to 
be laid. Let us obey the great inspiration of our time. Let 
us be afraid for the future. Let us recognize that man is 
going in upon a more critical period of his existence than he 
has ever lived in before. Let us rejoice in such assurances, 

25 but let us only dare to rejoice in so far as we give what 
strength it is possible for us to inspire in these great preser- 
vative forces which ever have been and ever must be the sal- 
vation of the world. 

The power of a generation, just think what it is! We 

30 sometimes personify generations and centuries. The eight- 
eenth, the seventeenth, the sixteenth centuries, to the stu- 
dent of history, stand forth distinct and clear. We can see 
exactly what they are. We can look into their faces. We 
can hear the tread with which they move along the stages of 

35 history. So it is with every generation. It has its personal 
life. It has its personality. What this society is trying to 



326 Addresses on Social Questions. 

do, in other words — for that is the real value of such a 
meeting and of such an organization as this — that power or 
disposition of human nature which this society moves in a 
small way, in a little degree, is the solemn responsibility of 
generation for generation. Looking at it in a large way, I 
think that is what this society is doing, and the world that 
this society represents. It is doing for the next generation 
precisely what the father and the mother do for the child whose 
life they have brought into this world, and whom they are 
to leave here in this world after they have passed away. 
The father and mother build the home, gather the true enjoy- 
ments of human life, and provide for the education of the 
child, smooth just as many of the first footsteps as it is possible 
to make plain, and only dismiss him from their care when 
the time comes that they must pass away to higher worlds, 
and must leave him here to fight the battles and meet the 
experiences of life. Generation does that for generation 
just as the father or mother does it for the child. This 
which we are doing is simply the manifest expression of that 
sense of responsibility and privilege which belongs to a gen- 20 
eration as it sends forth the next generation into life. The 
work is going on through all our homes. Everywhere where 
children are being educated by the sweet, natural influences 1 
of fatherhood and motherhood the next generation is being t 
fitted for its work. He who trains a little child in the house- 25 
hold is doing something more than simply making an heir 
for his property and a perpetuator of his fame. He is build- 
ing also part of that great human life that is to come after 
this special little bit of human life in which we have been 
living. Here are fragments, waifs and strays cast aside. 30 
We will bring them also and incorporate them into the power 
of that generation which is to come after ourselves. Poor is 
the life of any man, poor is the generation of mankind that 
says, " We care not what comes after we are gone." It is a 
beautiful provision of Him who made not merely individual but 35 
corporate and continuous human life, that man may care for 



\ 



Phillips Brooks. 327 

that which is to come after him, that the father and mother 
may care for their child, that the generation may care for the 
generation that is to be ; and so when you pick the child out 
of the gutter, and when you lead down the little child from 
5 the court-room where he has been condemned for a crime 
whose name and nature he can hardly understand, you are 
helping to build that future w^iose reflex power is adding the 
richest and loftiest power to the present life which w^e are 
living now. 

10 It seems to me he that acts for childhood is in a large 
sense acting for humanity, he is acting with such bright 
hope. I believe in every good institution. I believe in the 
institutions where old men are gathered at the end of their 
lives that the last lapping of the wave upon the beach may 

15 be calm in the twilight, however the tumult of the storm may 
have been raging out at sea. It is all beautiful, the soften- 
ing of the ends of life, and it is not destitute of hope to him 
who believes that every life that fails most here opens into 
some new opportunity beyond the stars. But surely there is 

20 a supreme presence of hopefulness when we are able to take 
him in whom the years of the future lie yet unopened, him 
who has not yet manifested the thing that is in him, when 
we are able to take him and stock his life with strength from 
our life, to free it from hindrances, and say, " Go forth, and 

25 be the thing God made you to be." It is a rich sense of the 
mystery of human being, simple and distinct in itself, that 
seems to me to be a wonder that grows on us the longer we 
live, and makes this world so beautiful that we dread with 
every anticipation the time when we shall be called to go 

30 away from it. We talk about the mystery of the great men 
who have manifested the splendid powers of our human life 
in their supremest exhibition. We talk about Martin Luther 
and William Shakespeare. We say how mysterious they 
are. Well, the mystery is not in their greatness. The mys- 

35 tery is in their commonness. The mystery is in their hu- 
manity. The poorest little waif upon your streets, the poorest 



328 Addresses on Social Questions. 

little ruffian that steals at the cart-tail, there is a mystery 
about him which, when you look at him, baffles philosophers 
and laughs philosophy to scorn. Ask this little creature on 
the street what it was he was doing yesterday. He says he 
remembers yesterday he went to West Philadelphia or he 5 
went to Camden. Do you take in the infinite mystery there 
is about that ? What is it for that little creature to remem- 
ber ? Where has been stowed away that experience of yes- 
terday which now he brings up and hands as if it were a 
billet out of his pocket to show to me ? Mystery that with 10 
all thinking and dreaming, with all singing and prophesying, 
men are no nearer to to-day than they were when the first 
men were puzzled by the everlasting mystery of human 
life. Now, to touch that mystery in its childhood, to 
touch that mystery before it is poured into the specific 15 
and different ways of life which it is going to manifest 
by and by, to take, not the doctor nor the merchant, 
not the young student nor the young criminal, but him 
in whom there is simply the absolute humanity, him in 
whom there is human life undivided and unnamed, simple 20 
human life. 

He who helps a child helps humanity with a distinctness, 
with an immediateness, which no other help given to human 
creatures in any other stage of their human life can possibl}'^ 1 
give again. He who puts his blessed influence into a river 25 
blesses the land to which that river is to flow ; but he who 
puts his influence into the fountain where the river comes 
out puts his influence everywhere. No land it may not 
reach. No ocean it may not make sweeter. No bark it may 
not bear. No wheel it may not turn. Sometimes we get at 30 
things best by their contraries. Learn, my friends, the rich 
beauty of helping a child by the awfulness of hurting a child. 
The thing men have always shuddered at most, the thing 
men have seemed to recognize as marking the deepest and 
most essential meanness of human nature, is hurting a child ; 35 
hurting a child even in his physical frame, so that he weeps, 



i 



II 



i 



Phillips Brooks. 329 

shrieks, and cries ; hurting him still more in soul and in 
mind. The thing that made the Divine Master indignant 
as He stood there in Jerusalem was that He dreamed 
of seeing before Him a man who had harmed some of 
5 these little ones, and He said of any such ruffian, '* It were 
better for him that he never had been born." If it is such 
an awful thing to hurt a child's life, to aid a child's life is 
beautiful. 

I sometimes think how it would be if multitude were taken 

10 away and we saw in its simplicity that which often loses 
itself in the large variety in which it is manifested to us. Sup- 
pose there were but one needy child in all the world. Sup- 
pose every child from China to Peru were wrapped in the 
soft care and tender luxury which belong to children in their 

15 parent's arms. Suppose every babe were cooing itself to 
rest in its mother's embrace, and every little boy were look- 
ing up into the face of a father's sympathy for the first mani- 
festation of a truth that was to make him strong. Then sup- 
pose that somewhere, anywhere upon our earth, there came 

20 one cry of a poor, wronged, needy child. Can you not be 
sure that all humanity would lift itself up and never be satis- 
fied until that child was aided ? Is it less pathetic, is it less 
appealing, because they are here by the million instead of 
one or two ? If one of those little creatures that the doctor 

25 read to us about had stood alone in all the generations of 
humanity, how infinitely pathetic it would have been ! How 
you all would have stood up and said, " Where is that child ? 
Where is that child ? Life shall not be life to us until we 
have relieved it, until those poor limbs have been straight- 

30 ened and those arms made strong, until those bleared eyes 
have been taught to see, and that voice has sung some of the 
first beginnings of the song of life." Well, there are hun- 
dreds and thousands and millions of them. They look up to 
you from the gutter as you walk the street. They look into 

35 the face of the good, kind judge as he sits upon his bench. 
They come stretching out their poor sick arms to the doctors 



330 Addresses on Social Questions. 

in the hospitals, and you can help them. You can help 
them. Help them just as you would if there were only one 
of them, by giving your sympathy, your blessing, your loud 
praise, and your large contributions to the Children's Aid 
Society. 5 



LEGISLATIVE. 



The two speeches afford a sharp contrast, for No. I is the relent- 
less attack of a party leader upon his opponent; No. II is the broad- 
minded appeal of a statesman in behalf of those who have been his op- 
ponents in peace and his enemies in war. Lord Sahsbury's speech is 
famous for its scathing sarcasm. Mr. Schurz's speech is noteworthy for 
its steady, skilful meeting, direct and indirect, of the two ideas most in 
the minds of those opposing him — that he is urging generosity vrhere 
punishment is due, and that the generosity urged impUes censure of the 
negro. 



I. 

LORD SALISBURY. 
Egypt and the Soudan. 

House of Lords, February 26, 1885. 

[" It was in the year 1880 that the movements of a Mahommedan 
dervish, named Mahomed Ahmed, first began to attract the attention 
of the Egyptian officials. He had quarrelled with and repudiated the 
authority of the head of his religious order, because he tolerated such 
5 frivolous practices as dancing and singing. Many earnest and energetic 
Mahommedans flocked to him, and among these was the present 
Khalifa Abdullah. To his instigation was probably due not merely the 
assumption of [the title Mahdi] by Mahommed Ahmed, but the addi- 
tion of a worldly policy to what was to have been a strictly religious 

10 propaganda. By New Year's Day, 1884, the power of the Mahdi 
was triumphantly established over the whole extent of the Soudan, 
from the Equator to Souakim, with the exception of Khartoum, the 
middle course of the Nile from that place to Dongola, [and] some out- 
lying garrisons. The principal Egyptian force remaining was the body 

15 of four thousand so-called troops, left behind at Khartoum, under 
Colonel de Coetlogon, by Hicks Pasha, when he set out on his unfortu- 
nate expedition, [destroyed at Shekan, November 4, 1883]. The 
motives which induced Mr. Gladstone's government to send General 
Gordon to the Soudan in January, 1884, were the selfish desire to appease 

20 public opinion, and to shirk in the easiest possible manner a great respon- 
sibility. They had no policy at all, [yet] hope was indulged that, under 
his exceptional reputation, the evacuation of the Soudan might not 
only be successfully carried out, but that his success might induce the 
public and the world to accept that abnegation of policy as the acme 

'25 of wisdom. They had evidently persuaded themselves that their policy 
was Gordon's policy ; and before he was in Khartoum a week he not 
merely points out that the evacuation policy is not his but theirs, and 
that although he thinks its execution is still possible, the true poHcy is, 
'if Egypt is to be quiet, that the Mahdi must be smashed up.' The 

30 hopes that had been based on Gordon's supposed complaisance in the 
post of representative on the Nile of the Government policy were thus 
dispelled, and it became evident that Gordon, instead of being a tool, 
was resolved to be m.aster, so far as the mode of carrying out the 

333 



334 Legislative. 

evacuation policy with full regard for the dictates of honour was to be 
decided. Nor was this all, or the worst of the revelations made to the 
Government in the first few weeks after his arrival at Khartoum. 
While expressing his willingness and intention to discharge the chief 
part of his task, viz. the withdrawal of the garrisons, which was ail the 5 
Government cared about, he also descanted on the moral duty and the 
inevitable necessity of setting up a provisional government that should 
avert anarchy and impose some barrier to the Mahdi's progress. All 
this was trying to those who only wished to be rid of the whole matter, 
but Gordon did not spare their feelings, and phrase by phrase he re- 10 
vealed what his own policy would be and what his inner wishes really 
were. . . . Gordon made several specific demands in the first six weeks 
of his stay at Khartoum, [he entered it February 18, 1884] — that is, in 
the short period before communication was cut off. To these requests 
not one favorable answer was given. . . . When it was revealed that he 15 
had strong views and clear plans, not at all in harmony with those who 
sent him, it was thought, by the Ministers who had not the courage to 
recall him, very inconsiderate and insubordinate of him to remain at his 
post and to refuse all the hints given him, that he ought to resign 
unless he would execute a sative qui pent sort of retreat to the frontier. 20 
Very harsh things have been said of Mr. Gladstone and his Cabinet on 
this point, but considering their views and declarations, it is not so very 
surprising that Gordon's boldness and originality alarmed and dis- 
pleased them. Their radical fault in these early stages of the question 
was not that they were indifferent to Gordon's demands, but that they 25 
had absolutely no policy. They could not even come to the decision, 
as Gordon wrote, ' to abandon altogether and not care what happens.' 
[The troops of the Mahdi besieged Khartoum from March, 1884, to 
January 25, 1885, when it fell.] The result of the early representations of 
the Duke of Devonshire, and the definite suggestion of Lord Wolseley, 30 
was that the Government gave in when the public anxiety became so 
great at the continued silence of Khartoum, and acquiesced in the 
dispatch of an expedition to relieve General Gordon. The sum of ten 
millions was devoted to the work of rescuing Gordon by the very 
persons who had rejected his demands for the hundredth part of that 35 
total," but so slow was the progress of the expedition that it arrived 
just too late. Condensed from pp. 98-157 of Life of Gordon., D. C. 
Boulger. T. F. Unwin, London. 

"On February 19, 1885 about a fortnight after the news of the fall 
of Khartoum and the death of our betrayed hero, Gordon, had reached 40 
this country, Parliament assembled. In the course of the next fort- 
night a motion of censure on the Government was proposed by Lord 
Salisbury in the House of Lords, and carried by 169 against 68 votes; 



I 



Lord Salisbury. 335 

but another motion to the same effect, introduced in the House of 
Commons by Sir Stafford Northcote, was defeated by a majority of 14." 
The Marquis of Salisbury, Y{..Vi.'Yx2SSi. pp. 196-199. Sampson Low, 
Marston & Co., London]. 

5 The Marquess of Salisbury, in rising to move — " That this 
House, having taken into consideration the statements that 
have been made on behalf of Her Majesty's Government, is 
of opinion that — (i.) The deplorable failure of the Soudan 
expedition to attain its object has been due to the undecided 

10 counsels of the Government and to the culpable delay 
attending the commencement of operations ; (2.) that the 
policy of abandoning the whole of the Soudan after the con- 
clusion of military operations will be dangerous to Egypt 
md inconsistent with the interests of the Empire," said : 

15 My Lords, the Motion which I have the honour to lay 
before Your Lordships to-night has a double aspect ; it 
passes judgment upon the past and it expresses an opinion 
with respect to the policy of the future. Some persons 
receive with considerable impatience the idea that at the 

2c present crisis of our country's destiny we should examine 
into the past, and spend our time in judging of that which can- 
not be recalled ; but I think that such objections are unreas- 
onable. In one of the gravest crises through which our 
country has ever passed we depend upon the wisdom and de- 

25 cision of those who guide our councils ; and we can only 
judge whether that dependence is rightly placed by examining 
their conduct in the past, to see whether what they have 
done justifies us in continuing our confidence in the difficul- 
ties which are yet to come. Now, whatever may be said of 

30 Her Majesty's Government, I think those who examine it care- 
fully will find that it follow^s a certain rule and system, and 
is in that sense, if in no other, consistent. Their conduct at 
the beginning of this Egyptian affair has been analogous to 
their conduct at the end. Throughout there has been an 

35 unwillingness to come until the last moment to any requisite 
decision — there has been an absolute terror of fixing upon 



33^ Legislative. 

any settled course ; and the result has been that when the 
time came when external pressure forced upon them a deci- 
sion as to some definite course the moment for satisfactory 
action had already passed, and the measures taken were 
adopted in haste, with little preparedness, and were ill-fitted 5 
for the emergency with which they had to cope. The con- 
duct of Her Majesty's Government has been an alternatior 
of periods of slumber and periods of rush ; and the rush, 
however vehement, has always been too unprepared and too 
unintelligent to repair the damage which the period o: 10 
slumber has effected. 

I do not wish to hark back into this Eg}''ptian Question . 
but it is necessar}^ to point out the uniformity^ of character in 
the conduct of, the Government. The first commencement 
of our troubles was the height to which Arabi's rebellion was 1 5 
allowed to go. The Government knew very well the danger 
of Arabi while he was yet a small man, and had little in- 
fluence. They were perfectly aware of the mischiefs he was 
brewing, and they not only declined to act themselves, but, 
if they are not greatly belied, they prevented the local author- 20 
ities from acting — they prevented Arabi being removed, as 
he should have been removed, from the confines of Egypt. 
If that had been done, all the evil that followed would have 
been averted ; but while his enterprize was going on they 
reposed in absolute security, and they took no effective 21 
measures till the pressure of public opinion forced upon 
them the movement which culminated in the bombardment of 
Alexandria. That was a very fair illustration of the vice 
which has characterized their policy, that when they did 
move the movement was made suddenly, with no prepara- 30 
tion. and with no foresight of what was to follow. The Fleet 
was moved in, and as a matter of course, Arabi resisted, and 
the Fleet, as was inevitable, suddenly replied ; and then it 
was found that there were no forces to land and back up the 
action that was taken. The result of that improvidence was 35 
not only that the Khedive's Throne was shaken, and the 



Lord Salisbury. 337 

fidelity of his Army was utterly destroyed, but that the town 
and fortifications of Alexandria, through the vengeance of 
Arabi, were grievously injured, and that tremendous debt for 
the injury done to Alexandria was incurred, which still re- 
5 mained a weight upon the Egyptian finances, and a hindrance 
to all negotiations for the settlement of foreign claims. That 
was the first act, the first specimen of that period of slumber 
followed by a sudden and unprepared rush. Then came the 
question of the Soudan, which was no new question. Before 

10 the battle of Tel-el-Kebir the Mahdi was already in arms. 
It was a matter as to which anybody who undertook to deal 
with the destinies of Egypt should have arrived at a decision 
as to the plan on which the Government of Egypt should act. 
But no decision was arrived at — the thing was allowed to 

15 drift; and Her Majesty's Government, plunged into absolute 
torpor, seemed to have but one care — that they should escape 
from nominal responsibility, ignoring the real responsibilities 
which would inevitably be attached to their actions. The 
despatches, one after another, during that period only repeat 

20 the old burden — " Her Majesty's Government has no re- 
sponsibility as to what takes place in the Soudan." The 
result was that the unhappy Hicks was sent into the Soudan, 
wretchedly equipped, with an army altogether beneath the 
number that he ought to have had, composed of men, more- 

25 over, who had been turned out of the Egyptian Army as 
worthless. The inevitable result followed — a result which 
Her Majesty's Government had no cause to be surprised at, 
for they were warned of it by their own confidential agents. 
Yet they absolutely declined to interfere, and hoped, by dis- 

30 claiming responsibility, to escape from the inevitable conse- 
quences of their own neglect. The anticipated disaster 
came. Hicks and his army were totally destroyed, and not 
a man escaped to tell the tale ; and then it was that Her 
Majesty's Government awoke from the period of slumber, 

3^ and the period of rush began. 

They adopted two measures, both of them as inadequate 



338 Legislative. 

and inapplicable to the circumstances as it was possible 
to conceive, and both of them big with future trouble. In 
the first place, they announced suddenly to the world and to 
Egypt, that Egypt must abandon the Soudan. It was impos- 
sible to conceive a more stupendous political blunder than that. 5 
It was a proclamation to all our enemies that they could 
enjoy impunity ; and it was a proclamation to all our friends 
that they would be handed over without mercy to those who 
desired to overwhelm them. But the announcement was 
made, and from that moment the fate of the garrisons whom 10 
they had left scattered over the Soudan was sealed. The 
fate of the garrison of Khartoum was brought home to them 
forcibly, and they might have taken seasonable measures for 
its relief — they might have sent troops upon which they 
could rely to defend its garrison, and adopted some definite 15 
and effective plan of relief. Instead of that, they took 
advantage of the chivalrous devotion of one of the noblest ■ 
spirits which this age has seen; and, making use of his self- 
devotion, they sent him forward on an impossible and hope- 
less task to accomphsh by mere words and promises what 20 
they had not the courage to do by force of arms. From 
that commencement — the abandonment of the Soudan and 
the mission of General Gordon — all our subsequent troubles 
have arisen. But that was not all. Among the garrisons of 
the Soudan were those of Sinkat and Tokar, which, so long 25 
back as November, 1883, were severely pressed by the 
Mahdi's lieutenants, and their danger was announced to Her 
Majesty's Government as extreme. For three months they ■ 
took no notice of that danger; they allowed the matter to be 
left to General Baker and a body of Egyptians, whose worth- 30 
lessness was announced in every page of the Correspondence * 
laid before them. Of course. General Baker, with such a 
force, was inevitably defeated ; but it was not until Parlia- 
ment met — I think it was not until a Vote Censure was 
announced — that Her Majesty's Government determined to 35 
make an effort to do that which they ought to have done, 



Lord Salisbury. 339 

and which, if they had not been asleep, they would have 
done three months before, to make an effort to relieve the 
garrisons of Sinkat and Tokar. When the resolution was 
come to, when at last the necessity dawned upon their minds, 
5 they plunged into the matter with their usual improvidence 
and w^ant of plan. They sent men to Suakin, apparently 
with no idea of what they were to do when they got there. 
Before they started Sinkat had fallen, and before they could 
undertake any active operations the garrison of Tokar, giv- 

10 ing up in despair, had surrendered. Then the planlessness, 
the aimlessness, of the Government Avas revealed ; they 
landed their Forces, and, lest they should expose themselves 
to derision for taking them away without doing anything, they 
slaughter six thousand Arabs, and go away absolutely with- 

15 out any result for the blood of their friends or the blood 
of their enemies that they had shed. They go away guilty of 
all this bloodshed, leaving behind them absolutely no result, 
except the enmities and the blood feuds they had created, 
because they had plunged into the enterprize without any 

20 definite view, and without any fixed plan to guide themselves. 
These three cases — the case of the bombardment of Alex- 
andria, the case of the abandonment of the Soudan, and the 
case of the mission of General Graham's Force — they are all 
on the same plan, and all show you that remarkable char- 

25 acteristic of torpor during the time when action was 
needed, and hasty, impulsive, ill-considered action, when the 
moment for action had passed by. 

Their further conduct was modelled on their conduct of 
the past. So far was it modelled, that we were able to put 

30 it to the test which establishes a scientific law. The proof 
of a scientific laAv is that you can prophesy from previous 
occurrences what will happen in the future. That is exactly 
what took place in the present instance. We had had these 
three instances of the mode of working of Her Majesty's 

35 Government before us, and we knew the laws that guided 
their action. As astronomers, observing the motions of a 



340 Legislative. 

comet, can discover by observation the future path by which 
that comet is to travel, so we could prophecy what would 
happen in the case of General Gordon. My Right hon. Friend 
(Sir Stafford Northcote) prophesied it in the House of Com- 
mons, and was met by a burst of fury from the Prime Minister 5 
such as that Assembly has seldom seen. He was told that 
Egypt was of much less importance than, I think, Sutherland 
or Caithness, and that everything that was wrong was the re- 
sult of deficits imputed to him in the finances some ten years 
ago ; and he was generally denounced because he would inter- lo 
fere with the beneficent legislation of the Government on the 
subject of capable citizens and so forth by introducing the 
subject of Egypt as many as seventeen times. Well, that did 
not prevent my Right hon. Friend's prophecies from being 
correct, and I venture to repeat them in this House. I do 15 
not like to quote my own words — it is egotistical — but as a 
proof of what I may call the accuracy of the scientific law by 
which the motion of the Government is determined, I should 
like to quote what I said on the 4th of April, when discussing 
the prospect of the relief of General Gordon. The Govern- 20 
ment were proclaiming that he was perfectly safe, and that 
an Expedition to relieve him was an utterly unnecessary 
operation, while it was very unreasonable for us to raise the 
question before Parliament. What I said was this — " Are 
these circumstances encouraging to us when we are asked to 25 
trust that, on the inspiration of the moment, when the danger 
comes Her Majesty's Government will find some means of 
relieving General Gordon ? I fear that the history of the 
past will be repeated in the future ; that, just again, when it 
is too late, the critical resolution will be taken ; some terrible 3° 
news will come that the position of Gordon is absolutely a 
forlorn and helpless one ; and then, under the pressure of 
public wrath and Parliamentary censure, some desperate 
resolution of sending an Expedition will be formed too late A 
to achieve the object that it is desired to gain." (3 Hansard, 35 ■ 
[286], 16 1 6.) I quote these words to show that by that time 



Lord Salisbury. 341 

we had ascertained the laws of motion and the orbits of those 
eccentric comets who sit on the Treasury Bench. Now the 
terrible responsibility and blame rests upon the Government, 
because they were warned in March and April of the danger 
5 to General Gordon ; because they received every intimation 
which men could reasonably look for that his danger would 
be extreme ; and because they delayed from March and 
April right down to the 15 th of August before they took a 
single measure to relieve him. 

10 What were they doing all that time ? It is very difficult 
to conceive. Some people have said — I think it is an 
unreasonable supposition — that the cause of the tardiness 
of Her Majesty's Government was the accession to the Cabi- 
net of the noble Earl the Secretary of State for the Colonies 

15 (the Earl of Derby). I have quoted some of the earlier 
misdeeds of Her Majesty's Government, partly for the pur- 
pose of defending the noble Earl from the charge — they 
were almost as bad before he joined them. What happened 
during those eventful months ? I suppose some day the 

20 memoirs will tell our grandchildren : but we shall never 
know. Some people think there were divisions in the Cabi- 
net, and that, after division on division, a decision was put 
off lest the Cabinet should be broken up. I am rather 
inclined to think that it was due to the peculiar position of 

25 the Prime Minister. He came in as the apostle of the Mid- 
Lothian campaign, loaded with all the doctrines and all the 
follies of that pilgrimage. We have seen on each occasion, 
after one of these mishaps, when he has been forced by 
events and by the common sense of the nation to take some 

30 more active steps — we have seen his extreme supporters 
falling foul of him, and reproaching him with having deserted 
their opinions and disappointed the ardent hopes which they 
had formed of him as the apostle of absolute negation in 
foreign affairs. I think he always felt the danger of that 

35 reproach. He always felt the debt that he had incurred to 
those supporters. He always felt a dread lest they should 



342 Legislative. 

break away ; and he put off again and again to the last 
practical moment any action which might bring him into 
open conflict with the doctrines by which his present emi- 
nence was gained. 

At all events, this is clear — that throughout those six 5 
months the Government knew perfectly well the danger in 
which General Gordon was placed. It has been said that 
General Gordon did not ask for troops. I am surprised at 
that defence. One of the characteristics of General Gordon 
was the extreme abnegation of his nature. It was not 10 
to be expected that he should send home a telegram to 
say — " I am in great danger, therefore send me troops " — 
he would probably have cut off his right hand before he 
would have written a telegram of that sort. But he sent || 
home telegrams through Mr. Power, telegrams saying that 15 
the people of Khartoum were in great danger ; that the 
Mahdi would succeed unless military succour was sent for- 
ward ; urging at one time the sending forward of Sir Evelyn 
Wood and his Egyptians, and atanother the landing of Indians 
at Suakin and the establishment of the Berber route, and 20 
distinctly telling the Government — and this is the main 
point — that unless they would consent to his views the 
supremacy of the Mahdi was assured. This is what he said 
no later than February 29th, almost when first he saw the 
nature of the problem with which he had been sent to deal — 25 
" Should you wish to intervene, send two hundred British troops 
to Wady Haifa . . . and then open up Suakin-Berber route 
with Indian Moslem troops. ... If you decide against this, 
you may probably have to decide between Zebehr and Mahdi." 
[Egypt, No. 12 (1884) p. 131.] It was impossible that he 30 
could have spoken more clearly. But Mr. Power, who was 
with him, who was one of the three Englishmen in the town, 
who was the Consular Agent, whom he trusted so much that 
he sent him down with Stewart upon that last ill-fated jour- 
ney, and whose decoration and reward he recommended to 35 
the British Government — he could speak plainly ; he was 



Lord Salisbury. 343 

not the General in command, and there was no appeal to his 
chivalry in the matter. Power said on the 23d of March — 
"We are daily expecting British troops — we cannot bring our- 
selves to believe that we are to be abandoned by the Govern- 
5 ment. Our existence depends upon England." Well, now, 
my Lords, is it conceivable that after two months, in May, 
the Prime T^Iinister should have said that they were waiting 
to have reasonable proof that Gordon was in danger ? By 
that time Khartoum was surrounded ; the Governor of Berber 

10 had announced that his case was hopeless, which was surely 
proved by the massacre which took place in June ; and yet 
in May Mr. Gladstone was still waiting for "reasonable proof " 
that the men who were surrounded, who had announced that 
they had only five months' food, were in danger. Apparently 

1 5 he did not get that reasonable proo'f till the month of August. 
I may note, in passing, that I think the interpretation which 
the Government has placed upon the language of their 
trusted officers has more than once been exceedingly ungen- 
erous. They told us that they did not think it necessary to 

20 send an Expedition to relieve Sinkat and Tokar because they 
could quote some language of hope from the despatches of 
General Baker ; and in the same way they could quote the 
same language of hope from the despatches of General 
Gordon. But a General sent forward on a dangerous mission 

25 does not like to go whining for assistance unless he is abso- 
lutely pressed by the extremest peril. All those great quali- 
ties which go to make men heroes and soldiers are incompat- 
ible with such a course, lead them to underrate danger, and 
to shrink as from a great disgrace from any unnecessary 

30 appeal for exertion for their protection. It was the business 
of the Government not to interpret Gordon's telegrams as if 
they had been statutory declarations ; but to judge for them- 
selves of the circumstances of the case, and to see that those 
who were surrounded, who were only three Englishmen 

35 among such a vast body of Mahommedans, and who were 
already cut off from all communications with the civilized 



344 Legislative. 

world by the o ccupation of every important town upon the 
river, were really in danger, and that, if they meant to 
answer their responsibilities, they were bound to relieve 
them. I cannot tell what blindness fell over the eyes of 
some Members of Her Majesty's Government. On reading 5 
over these debates, I find that the Marquess of Hartington, 
on the 13th of May, actually gave utterance to these expres- 
sions — "I say that it would be indelible disgrace " — indelible 
disgrace — " if we should neglect any means at the disposal 
of this country to save General Gordon." (3 Hansard, [288] 10 
224.) And after that announcement by the Minister chiefly 
responsible, the Secretary of State for War, three months 
elapsed before any step was taken for doing that which he 
admitted that the Government were bound to do under the 
penalty of indelible disgrace. 15 

It has been said that General Gordon was destroyed by 
treachery, and that that treachery would have happened at 
any time when the British Army came near Khartoum. 
What does that extraordinary theory mean ? It means that 
the Mahdi had agreed with Farag Pasha that it would be 20 
much more comfortable to go on besieging, and that they 
should go on besieging until Lord Wolseley's Force came 
and made it dangerous to continue doing it any longer, and 
that then the previously arranged surrender of the place 
should take place. Have those who put forth this extraor- 25 
dinary theory not heard or read of the hard straits to which 
the Mahdi and his followers were for a long time reduced 
— how they were suffering from fever, from cholera, from 
small-pox, from the difficulty of feeding themselves, how 
there were constant threats that the Mahdi's men would 30 
desert this cause, and how very hard it was for him to main- 
tain his position ? Depend upon it that if the Mahdi could 
have shortened that period of trial by one hour he would 
have done so. But supposing this theory to be true — sup- 
posing the danger was so extreme — and that the moment 35 
General Gordon was in Khartoum treachery was certain 



Lord Salisbury. 345 

sooner or later to do its work, and that its execution was 
only delayed until the necessary emergency arrived — what 
does that prove ? Does it not show that the sending of 
General Gordon to Khartoum was an act of extreme folly ? 
5 I do not know of any instance of such a man being sent 
to maintain a position like Khartoum without a certain 
number of British troops going with him. If British troops 
had been there, such treachery would have been impossible. 
The sending of General Gordon by himself, to rely alone on 

10 the fidelity of Egyptian troops, for whose allegiance he had 
no kind of security, was an act of the extremest rashness ; 
and if the Government can succeed in proving — as I do 
not think they can — that this treachery was inevitable, 
they only pile up additional reasons for condemning the 

15 expedient by which they sought to cover their previous 
action. I must confess that it is very difficult to separate 
this question from the personal matter which it involves. 

It is very difficult to argue it on purely abstract grounds, 
without turning for a moment to the character of the man 

20 who was thus engaged, and the terrible risk which he ran. 
When we consider all that he underwent, all that he sacri- 
ficed in order to serve the Government in a moment of 
extreme exigency, there is something infinitely pathetic in 
reflecting on what must have been his feelings as day after 

25 day, week after week, and month after month passed by, and 
he spared no exertion, no personal sacrifice, to perform the 
duties placed upon him, as he lengthened out the siege by 
inconceivable prodigies of skill, ingenuity, and resource, and 
as, in spite of it all — in spite of the deep devotion to his 

30 country which had prompted him to this great risk and under- 
taking — the conviction gradually dawned upon him that this 
country had abandoned him. It is terrible to think what he 
must have suffered when, at last, as a desperate measure 
to save those whom he loved, he parted with the only two 

35 Englishmen with whom, during these long months, he had had 
any converse, and sent Colonel Stewart and Mr. Power down 



346 Legislative. 

the river to escape from the fate which had become inevitable 
to himself. It is very painful to think of the reproaches upon 
his country, and his country's Government, which must have 
passed through the mind of that devoted man through succes- 
sive weeks and months of unmerited peril and neglect. No 5 
wonder he should have at last written that tragic letter, which 
has only appeared yesterday before the world — the letter 
he wrote on the 14th of December — " All is up ; I expect a 
catastrophe in ten days' time. It would not have been so if 
our people had kept me better informed as to their inten- 10 
tions." The Government had no intentions to keep him 
informed of. They were merely acting from hand to mouth 
to avert a Parliamentary Censure or a political crisis. They 
had no plan, no intentions to carry out. If he could have 
known their intentions, that great hero would have been 15 
saved to the English Army, and a great disgrace would 
not have been enrolled on the history of the English race. 
My Lords, by the light of this sad history, what are our 
prospects for the future ? Was there ever a time when clear- 
ness of plan and definiteness of policy were more required 20 
than they are now ? I am not going to say that the policy 
of the Government is bad. I should be paying them an 
extravagant compliment if I said that. They have no policy 
at all. As my Right hon. and learned Friend (Mr. Gibson) 
epigrammatically described their policy the other night, they 25 
are going to Khartoum to please the Whigs, and they are 
going to abandon it to please the Radicals. I dare say that 
that is as true as any other description of their policy that can 
be given. But at such a crisis of our country's fate, in both 
Houses of Parliament, in the Press, in society — everywhere 30 
— you hear people asking " What is their policy ? " You get 
no answer. You get no answer from themselves. Here and 
there you get a faint echo of a policy, something vague and 
ill-defined, like the distant sound, to which you can attach no 
definite meaning. You sometimes seem to see for a moment 35 
the phantom of a policy ; but if you try to grasp it, it es- 



Lord Salisbury. 347 

capes you. We used to think that the policy of the 
Government was the evacuation of the Soudan as soon 
as the mihtary operations were over. A very bad pol- 
icy! But even that does not seem now to be their 
5 policy. We do not know whether they are going to 
evacuate the Soudan or not. They do not know who 
are going to hold the Soudan ; they leave themselves 
open as to that; it may be the Italians, the Turks, or the 
Chinese. Only one point they put their foot down on, and 

10 that is that Egypt shall not hold the Soudan. I confess I 
thought that when they swept all the rest away they might 
sweep that away also ; for there is the portion of the Soudan 
which the Earl of Dufferin thought should remain under 
Egypt, and which must always follow the destinies in some 

15 sense of " the Egyptian Government." Then we were told 
that they were to " smash the Mahdi ; " but now we are to 
make use of the Mahdi. To smash the Mahdi is not the 
best way of inducing him to take a favourable view of your 
operations. If you smash the Mahdi, you may do it so thor- 

20 oughly that he will not be of any use in the future ; and it is 
possible he may retain a certain resentment for the process 
of being smashed. It is possible either that the Mahdi, in 
fulfilment of his claims to the religious position he occupies, 
will have to decline to any dealing with the infidels ; or that 

25 if you crush him so entirely by force of arms that he may 
consent to treat with you, he will have lost all position in the 
eyes of his fellow-countrymen, and you will not find his influ- 
ence of any assistance in the solution of the terrible problem 
which you have in the Soudan. They have no policy, in 

30 the same way, as to the railway. It is a very important 
measure making a railway. It is very difficult work. It is 
unprecedented in history to project a railway into an en- 
emy's country, and follow it up by conquering the country. 
Whether that is possible or not, the construction of the rail- 

35 way did seem to imply some policy. If the Government are 
going to make a railway, and then leave it for the first comer 



34^ Legislative. 

to take and do with it what he hked, that is an extremity of 
generosity which can only belong to a Government which 
lives from hand to mouth. It appears to me that, on this 
matter of our Egyptian policy, though I do not say that you 
can lay down the precise steps by which the end is to be ob- 5 
tained, still it is a time when we ought to conceive to 
ourselves what the end of our policy is to be — that we 
should clearly define it and follow it out with consistency 
and persistency. 

Now, let us examine broadly what are the interests of lo 
England in this matter. With Mediterranean politics, as 
such, we have no great reason to concern ourselves. 
France may be mistress in Algeria and Tunis ; Morocco 
may go its own way ; and it is said that Italy has views 
in Tripoli ; but Egypt stands in a peculiar position. It 1 5 
is the road to India. The condition of Egypt can never 
be indifferent to us ; and, more than that, after all the sacri- 
fices that we have made, after all the efforts that this country 
has put forth, after the position that we have taken up in the 
eyes of the world, we have a right, and it is our duty to 20 
insist upon it, that our influence shall be predominant in 
Egypt. I do not care by what technical arrangements this 
result is obtained. Technical arrangements must neces- 
sarily conform, among other things, to the International 
Law and the Treaty conditions of the world; but the substance 25 
of the thing must be this — with all due regard — I do not 
wish for a moment to disturb the rights of the Suzerain, — but 
with due regard for those rights, the interests of England 
in Egypt must be supreme. Now, the influence of England in 
Egypt is threatened from two sides. It is threatened on the 30 
North diplomatically by the position which the Powers 
are taking up with respect to Egypt. I do not think it 
was necessary that the Powers should have taken up 
that position. I believe that, with decent steering, it 
might have been avoided ; but it has not been avoided, 35 
and we undoubtedly have to face, at all events, the inchoate 



Lord Salisbury. 349 

claims which will demand the utmost jealousy and vigilance 
of Parliament. I do not know what are precisely the ar- 
rangements which the Government are said to have ar- 
rived at with respect to the Guarantee. I greatly fear that 

5 it may include the idea of a Multiple Control, and to the idea 
of a Multiple Control I believe that this country will be per- 
sistently and resolutely hostile. But, diplomatically, we have 
to guard Eg}^pt from the superior influences of any Power 
but our own from the North. From the South at the present 

10 moment we have a danger of another kind. We have the 
forces of fanatical barbarism let loose upon the South of 
Egypt. Owing to the blunders that have been committed, 
those dangers have reached a ter.rible height. They un- 
doubtedly will require a very strenuous eifort on the part of 

15 this country to conquer. But unless we intend to give over 
Egypt to barbarism and anarchy, unless we intend to sacri- 
fice all the advantages for civilization that we have won 
there, and all the value of the services which that country 
may render to British interests as its path to the East, we 

20 must contrive to check this inroad of barbarian fanaticism 
which is impersonated in the actions and character of the 
Mahdi. Now, General Gordon never said a truer thing than 
when he said that we could not do so by simply drawing a 
military line, and that we might as well draw a military line 

25 to keep back fever. If the insurgent Mahommedans reach 
the North of Egypt, it will not be so much by their military 
force as by the moral power of their example that they will 
threaten the existing state of things in Egypt and the inter- 
ests of all the European Powers, and, most of all, of our own. 

30 We have, therefore, to check — it is absolutely necessary 
that we should check — this advance of the Mahdi's power. 
Her Majesty's Government, in those glimpses of policy 
which they occasionally afford us, have alluded — I cannot 
say they have done more — to the possibility of setting up a 

35 good Government in the Soudan. I quite agree that a good 
Government is essential to us in the Soudan. That is the 



350 Legislative. 

only dyke that we can really erect to keep out this inundation 
of barbarian and fanatical force. I entirely concur with 
them if that is their view, which I cannot certainly deter- 
mine. I entirely concur with them that it is the duty of this 
country to see a good Government erected in that country, 5 
a Government upon which we can rely, and which shall have 
power to stem the forces which the Mahdi has set in motion. 
But they speak of a Government as if it was a Christmas 
present that you can give a country and then go away. 
England, it seems, possesses a great many good Governments 10 
in store to give away ; she can always give one to a nation 
when it requires it ; or rather, like the ostrich's egg, they 
can leave it in the sand to hatch itself. But a good Govern- 
ment, like any other organized being, must pass through the 
stages of infancy to maturity. There must be a long stage 15 
of infancy during which this Government is unable to defend 
itself ; and if it is to exist for any useful purposes, it requires, 
during that period, protection and security, which it can only 
derive from the action of an external Power. It is that pro- 
tection and security that England must give. She must not 20 
desert her task in the Soudan until there is that Government 
which can protect Egypt, in which her interests are vital. 

I do not say whether it should be done by the Nile or from 
Suakin. I think I see a noble Lord, one of the greatest 
ornaments of this House, who has conducted an Expedition, 25 
not over two hundred and fifty miles from Suakin to Berber, 
but over four hundred miles, and that with success, over the 
same burning country, and his opinion, as given last year, is 
that the Suakin and Berber route is the route by which the 
Soudan should be held. In that opinion I do not say that I 30 
concur — that would be impertinent ; but it is an opinion to 
which I can humbly subscribe. Whether it is to be done by 
a railway or not is another matter ; but I fully believe that 
by using the Suakin and Berber route, we may maintain a 
hold over that portion of the Soudan which may enable us to 35 
perform that which is our primary duty — namely, to repress 



Lord Salisbury. 351 

these forces of barbarism and fanaticism, to protect Egypt 
from further incursion, to nourish the civilization which they 
protected and secured, and which would find such abundant 
root in that fertile country ; and, above all, to quench, and 
5 check, and ultimately to destroy, the Slave Trade, which has 
been the curse of Africa. All those advantages can be 
readily obtained if England will lay down a determined pol- 
icy, and will adhere to it. But consistency of policy is abso- 
lutely necessary. You cannot envelop your policy in obscur- 

10 ity, trusting to chance and taking this or that side, according 
as Parliamentary exigencies require. You cannot do that 
without fatally damaging the prestige of your power and the 
chance of your success. We have to assure our friends that 
we shall stand by them ; we have to assure our enemies that 

15 we are permanently to be feared ; and it is only on the con- 
ditions on which our enemies dread us and our friends trust 
us that we can be successful in dealing with our enemies. 
My Lords, we must not conceal from ourselves that the 
blunders of the last three years have placed us in presence 

20 of terrible problems and difficulties, which will require all 
our manhood to overcome. We have great sacrifices, too, 
to make. I earnestly trust that this railway, of which I hear 
so much, may be made. It will be an enormous benefit to 
Africa. But do not conceal from yourselves that the task is 

25 one of no slight magnitude. To throw forward a railway 
into a country which is not in our possession has never been 
done before. When you have thrown it forward you will 
have to guard it against a population who know the country 
thoroughly, who are very difficult to reach, and who are 

30 singularly hostile to any Christian or civilized effort. If you 
carry this railway forward, you will not only have to smash 
the Mahdi, but you will have to smash Osman Digna as well, 
and to smash him so completely that he will not only not be 
able to resist at the moment, but that he shall be unable to 

35 turn back and take up the railway when it is made. All 
those things involve great sacrifices. They involve the ex- 



352 Legislative. 



penditure not only of much money, but more of that English 
blood of which the noblest has already been poured forth. 
They involve the creation of blood feuds that you will have 
great difficulty in dealing with, and we are not so strong as 
we were. At first all nations sympathized with us ; now 5 
they look upon us coldly, and even with hostility. Those 
who were our friends became indifferent ; those who were 
indifferent have become our adversaries ; and if our misfor- 
tunes and disasters go on much longer, we shall have 
Europe interfering, and saying that they cannot trust us — 10 
we are too weak — that our prestige is too broken to justify 
us in undertaking the task. 

My Lords, those are great dangers we have to face. They 
can only be faced by a consistent policy, which can only be 
conducted by a Ministry that is capable of unity of counsel 15 
and decision of purpose. I have shown you that from this 
Ministry you can expect no such results. They will only 
produce after their kind ; they will only do what they have 
already done. You cannot look for unity of counsel from an 
Administration which is hopelessly divided ; you cannot ex- 20 
pect a resolute policy from those whose purpose is hope- 
lessly halting. It is for this reason, my Lords, that I ask 
you to record your opinion that in a Ministry, in whom the 
first quality of all — the quality of decision of purpose — is 
wanting ; from such a Ministry you can hope no good in this 25 
crisis of your country's fate. If you continue to trust them ; 
if you continue for any Party reason — if Parliament contin- 
ues — to abandon to their care the affairs which they have 
hitherto so hopelessly mismanaged, you must expect to go on 1 j 
from bad to worse ; you must expect to lose the little prestige 30 
which you retain ; you must expect to find in other portions 
of the world the results of the lower consideration which 
you occupy in the eyes of mankind. You must expect to be 
drawn on, year by year, step by step, under the cover of 1 1 
plausible excuses, under the cover of high philanthropic 35 
sentiments — you must expect to be drawn on to irreparable 



Carl Schurz. 353 

disasters and disgrace, which it will be impossible to efface. 
Moved to resolve, " That this House, having taken into con- 
sideration the statements that have been made on behalf of 
Her Majest}''s Government, is of opinion that — 

1. The deplorable failure of the Soudan expedition to 
attain its object has been due to the undecided councils of 
the Government and to the culpable delay attending the 
commencement of operations ; 

2. That the policy of abandoning the whole of the Sou- 
dan after the conclusion of militaiy operations will be 
dangerous to Eg}-pt and inconsistent with the interests of the 
Empire. " 



H. 
CARL SCHURZ. 

General Amnesty.^ 

United States Senate, Jamiary jo^ l8'/2. 

[" The following speech was delivered on a bill for removing the 
political disabilities imposed by the third section of the Fourteenth 

15 Amendment to the Constitution. Tliis section provided that no person 
should be a senator, representative, or presidential elector, or hold any 
civil or military office under the United States or any State, who, as a 
Federal or State officer, had sworn to support the Constitution and had 
afterward engaged in the Rebellion ; but provision was made that the 

20 disability could be removed by a two-thirds vote of each House. The 
bill before Congress at this time did not, however, aim to secure gen- 
eral amnesty, for three classes of persons were excepted from the relief : 
members who withdrew from Congress and aided the Rebellion ; officers, 
over twenty-one years of age, who left the Army and Navy and aided 

25 the Rebellion ; and members of State conventions who voted for ordi- 
nances of secession. The bill, faiUng to receive the necessary two- 
thirds vote, was defeated. " Modern A?nerican Oratory, R. C. Ringwalt, 
p. 93, H. Holt & Co.] 

.- Reprinted, with the permission of Mr. Schurz. from the Congressional 
Globe. 



354 Legislative. 

Mr. President : When this debate commenced before 
the hoUdays, I refrained from taking part in it, and from ex- 
pressing my opinions on some of the provisions of the bill now 
before us ; hoping as I did that the measure could be passed 
without difficulty, and that a great many of those who now 5 
labor under political disabilities would be immediately relieved. 
This expectation was disappointed. An amendment to the 
bill was adopted. It will have to go back to the House of 
Representatives now unless by some parliamentary means we 
get rid of the amendment, and there being no inducement left lo 
to waive what criticism we might feel inclined to bring for- 
ward, we may consider the whole question open. 

I beg leave to say that I am in favor of general, or, as this 
word is considered more expressive, universal amnesty, be- 
lieving, as I do, that the reasons which make it desirable that 1 5 
there should be amnesty granted at all, make it also desirable 
that the amnesty should be universal. The senator from 
South Carolina [ Mr. Sawyer ] has already given notice that 
he will move to strike out the exceptions from the operation 
of this act of relief for which the bill provides. If he had not 20 
declared his intention to that effect, I would do so. In any 
event, whenever he offers his amendment I shall most heartily 
support it. 

In the course of this debate we have listened to some 
senators, as they conjured up before our eyes once more all 25 
the horrors of the Rebellion, the wickedness of its conception, 
how terrible its incidents were, and how harrowing its con- 
sequences. Sir, I admit it all ; I will not combat the correct- 
ness of the picture ; and yet if I differ with the gentlemen who 
drew it, it is because, had the conception of the Rebellion 30 
been still more wicked, had its incidents been still more ter- 
rible, its consequences still more harrowing, I could not per- 
mit myself to forget that in dealing with the question now 
before us we have to deal not alone with the past, but with 
the present and future interests of this republic. 35 

What do we want to accomplish as good citizens and 



Carl Schurz. 355 

patriots ? Do we mean only to inflict upon the late rebels pain, 
degradation, mortification, annoyance, for its own sake; to 
torture their feelings without any ulterior purpose? Cer- 
tainly such a purpose could not by any possibility animate 
5 high-minded men. I presume, therefore, that those who still 
favor the continuance of some of the disabilities imposed by 
the Fourteenth Amendment do so because the}^ have some 
higher object of public usefulness in view, an object of public 
usefulness suflicient to justify, in their minds at least, the 

10 denial of rights to others which we ourselves enjoy. 

What can those objects of public usefulness be ? Let me 
assume that, if we differ as to the means to be employed, we 
are agreed as to the supreme end and aim to be reached. 
That end and aim of our endeavors can be no other than to 

1 5 secure to all the States the blessings of good and free govern- 
ment and the highest degree of prosperity and well-being they 
can attain, and to revive in all citizens of this republic that 
love for the Union and its institutions, and that inspiring 
consciousness of a common nationality, which, after all, must 

20 bind all Americans together. 

What are the best means for the attainment of that end ? 
This, sir, as I conceive it, is the only legitimate question we 
have to decide. Certainly all will agree that this end is far 
from having been attained so far. Look at the Southern 

25 States as they stand before us to-day. Some are in a con- 
dition bordering upon anarchy, not only on account of the 
social disorders which are occurring there, or the inefficiency 
of their local governments in securing the enforcement of the 
laws ; but you will find in many of them fearful corruption 

30 pervading the whole, political organization ; a combination of 
rascality and ignorance wielding official power ; their finances 
deranged by profligate practices ; their credit ruined ; bank- 
ruptcy staring them in the face ; their industries staggering 
under a fearful load of taxation ; their property-holders and 

35 capitalists paralyzed by a feeling of insecurity and distrust 
almost amounting to despair. Sir, let us not try to disguise 



356 Legislative. 



these facts, for the world knows them to be so, and knows it 
but too well. 

What are the causes that have contributed to bring about 
this distressing condition ? I admit that great civil wars, re- 
sulting in such vast social transformations as the sudden 5 
abolition of slavery, are calculated to produce similar results ; 
but it might be presumed that a recuperative power such as 
this country possesses might, during the time which has 
elapsed since the close of the War, at least have very mate- 
rially alleviated many of the consequences of that revulsion, 10 
had a wise policy been followed. 

Was the policy we followed wise ? Was it calculated to 
promote the great purposes we are endeavoring to serve ? 
Let us see. At the close of the War we had to establish and 
secure free labor and the rights of the emancipated class. 15 
To that end we had to disarm those who could have pre- 
vented this, and we had to give the power of self-protection to 
those who needed it. For this reason temporary restrictions 
were imposed upon the late rebels, and we gave the right of 
suffrage to the colored people. Until the latter were enabled 20 
to protect themselves, political disabilities even more extensive 
than those which now exist rested upon the plea of eminent 
political necessity. I would be the last man to conceal that 
I thought so then, and I think there was very good reason 
for it. 25 

But, sir, when the enfranchisement of the colored people 
was secured; when they had obtained the political means to 
protect themselves, then another problem began to loom up. 
It was not only to find new guarantees for the rights of the 
colored people, but it was to secure good and honest govern- 30 
ment to all. Let us not underestimate the importance of 
that problem, for in a great measure it includes the solution 
of the other. Certainly nothing could have been more calcu- 
lated to remove the prevailing discontent concerning the 
changes that had taken place, and to reconcile men's minds 35 
to the new order of things, than the tangible proof that the 



Carl Schurz. 357 

new order of things was practically working well ; that it 
could produce a wise and economical administration of pub- 
lic affairs, and that it would promote general prosperity, thus 
healing the wounds of the past and opening to all the pros- 
5 pect of a future of material well-being and contentment. 
And, on the other hand, nothing could have been more cal- 
culated to impede a general, hearty, and honest acceptance 
of the new order of things by the late rebel population than 
just those failures of public administration which involve the 

10 people in material embarrassments and so seriously disturb 
their comfort. In fact, good, honest, and successful govern- 
ment in the Southern States would in its moral effects, in the 
long run, have exerted a far more beneficial influence than 
all your penal legislation, while your penal legislation will 

15 fail in its desired effects if we fail in establishing in the 
Southern States an honest and successful administration of 
the public business. 

Now, what happened in the South? It is a well-known fact 
that the more intelligent classes of Southern society almost 

20 uniformly identified themselves with the Rebellion ; and by 
our system of political disabilities just those classes were ex- 
cluded from the management of political affairs. That they 
could not be trusted with the business of introducing into 
living practice the results of the War, to establish true free 

25 labor, and to protect the rights of the emancipated slaves, is 
true ; I willingly admit it. But when those results and rights 
were constitutionally secured there were other things to be 
done. Just at that period when the Southern States lay 
prostrated and exhausted at our feet, when the destructive 

30 besom of war had swept over them and left nothing but des- 
olation and ruin in its track, when their material interests 
were to be built up again with care and foresight — just then 
the public business demanded, more than ordinarily, the co- 
operation of all the intelligence and all the political experi- 

35 ence that could be mustered in the Southern States. But 
just then a large portion of that intelligence and experience 



358 Legislative. 

was excluded from the management of public affairs by 
political disabilities, and the controlling power in those 
States rested in a great measure in the hands of those who 
had but recently been slaves and just emerged from that con- 
dition, and in the hands of others who had sometimes hon- 5 
estly, sometimes by crooked means and for sinister purposes, 
found a way to their confidence. 

This was the state of things as it then existed. Nothing 
could be further from my intention than to cast a slur upon 
the character of the colored people of ■ the South. In fact, 10 
their conduct immediately after that great event which struck 
the shackles of slavery from their limbs was above praise. 
Lool^ into the history of the world, and you will find that 
almost every similar act of emancipation — the abolition of 
serfdom, for instance — was uniformly accompanied by the 15 
atrocious outbreaks of a revengeful spirit; by the slaughter 
of nobles and their families, illumined by the glare of their 
burning castles. Not so here. While all the horrors of San 
Domingo had been predicted as certain to follow upon eman- 
cipation, scarcely a single act of revenge for injuries suffered 20 
or for misery endured has darkened the record of the eman- 
cipated bondmen of America. And thus their example stands 
unrivaled in history, and they, as well as the whole American 
people, may well be proud of it. Certainly, the Southern 
people should never cease to remember and appreciate it. 25 

But while the colored people of the South earned our ad- 
miration and gratitude, I ask you in all candor could they be 
reasonably expected, when, just after having emerged from 
a condition of slavery, they were invested with political 
rights and privileges, to step into the political arena as men 30 
armed with the intelligence and experience necessary for the 
management of public affairs and for the solution of prob- 
lems made doubly intricate by the disasters which had des- 
olated the Southern country ? Could they reasonably be 
expected to manage the business of public administration, 35 
involving to so great an extent the financial interests and the 



Carl Schurz, 359 

material well-being of the people, and surrounded by diffi- 
culties of such fearful perplexity, with the wisdom and skill 
required by the exigencies of the situation ? That as a class 
they were ignorant and inexperienced and lacked a just con- 
5 ception of public interests, was certainly not their fault; for 
those who have studied the history of the world know but 
too well that slavery and oppression are very bad political 
schools. But the stubborn fact remains that they were ig- 
norant and inexperienced ; that the public business was an 

10 unknown world to them, and that in spite of the best inten- 
tions they were easily misled, not infrequently by the most 
reckless rascality which had found a way to their confidence. 
Thus their political rights and privileges were undoubtedly 
well calculated, and even necessary, to protect their rights 

15 as free laborers and citizens; but they were not well calcu- 
lated to secure a successful administration of other public 
interests. 

I do not blame the colored people for it, still less do I say 
that for this reason their political rights and privileges should 

20 have been denied them. Nay, sir, I deemed it necessary 
then, and I now reaffirm that opinion, that they should pos- 
sess those rights and privileges for the permanent establish- 
ment of the logical and legitimate results of the War and the 
protection of their new position in society. But, while never 

25 losing sight of this necessity, I do say that the inevitable 
consequence of the admission of so large an uneducated and 
inexperienced class to political power, as to the probable 
mismanagement of the material interests of the social body, 
should at least have been mitigated by a counterbalancing 

30 policy. When ignorance and inexperience were admitted to 
so large an influence upon public affairs, intelligence ought 
no longer to so large an extent to have been excluded. In 
other words, when universal suffrage was granted to secure 
the equal rights of all, universal amnesty ought to have been 

35 granted to make all the resources of political intelligence and 
experience available for the promotion of the welfare of all. 



360 Legislative. 

But what did we do ? To the uneducated and inex- 
perienced classes — uneducated and inexperienced, I repeat, 
entirely without their fault — we opened the road to power ; 
and, at the same time, we condemned a large proportion of 
the intelligence of those States, of the property-holding, the 5 
industrial, the professional, the tax-paying interest, to a 
worse than passive attitude. We made it, as it were, easy 
for rascals who had gone South in quest of profitable ad- 
venture to gain the control of masses so easily misled, 
by permitting them to appear as the exponents and repre- 10 
sentatives of the national power and of our policy ; and at 
the same time we branded a large number of men of intelli- 
gence, and many of them of personal integrity, whose 
material interests were so largely involved in honest govern- 
ment, and many of whom would have co-operated in manag- 15 
ing the public business with care and foresight — we branded 
them, I say, as outcasts ; telling them that they ought not to 
be suffered to exercise any influence upon the management of 
the public business, and it would be unwarrantable pre- 
sumption in them to attempt it. 20 

I ask you, sir, could such things fail to contribute to the 
results we to-day read in the political corruption and de- 
moralization, and in the financial ruin of some of the 
Southern States ? These results are now before us. The 
mistaken policy may have been pardonable when these 25 
consequences were still a matter of conjecture and specula- 
tion ; but what excuse have we now for continuing it when 
those results are clear before our eyes, beyond the reach of 
contradiction ? 

These considerations would seem to apply more particu- 30 
larly to those Southern States where the colored element 
constitutes a very large proportion of the voting body. 
There is another which applies to all. 

When the Rebellion stood in arms against us, we fought 
and overcame force by force. That was right. When the 35 
results of the War were first to be established and fixed, we 



Carl Schurz. 361 

met the resistance they encountered with that power which 
the fortune of war and the revolutionary character of the 
situation had placed at our disposal. The feelings and 
prejudices which then stood in our way had under such 
5 circumstances but little, if any, claim to our consideration. 
But when the problem presented itself of securing the per- 
manency, the peaceable development, and the successful 
working of the new institutions we had introduced into our 
political organism, we had as wise men to take into careful 

10 calculation the moral forces we had to deal with ; for let us 
not indulge in any delusion about this : what is to be per- 
manent in a republic like this must be supported by public 
opinion ; it must rest at least. upon the willing acquiescence 
of a large and firm majority of the people. 

15 The introduction of the colored people, the late slaves, 
into the body-politic as voters, pointedly affronted the tra- 
ditional prejudices prevailing among the Southern whites. 
What should we care about those prejudices ? In war, 
nothing. After the close of the War, in the settlement of 

20 peace, not enough to deter us from doing what was right and 
necessary ; and yet, still enough to take them into account 
when considering the manner in which right and necessity 
were to be served. Statesmen will care about popular 
prejudices as physicians will care about the diseased con- 

25 dition of their patients, which they want to ameliorate. 
Would it not have been wise for us, looking at those 
prejudices as a morbid condition of the Southern mind, 
to mitigate, to assuage, to disarm them by prudent measures, 
and thus to weaken their evil influence ? We desired the 

30 Southern whites to accept in good faith universal suffrage, to 
recognize the political rights of the colored man, and to pro- 
tect him in their exercise. Was not that our sincere desire .? 
But if it was, would it not have been wise to remove as 
much as possible the obstacles that stA)d in the way of 

35 that consummation ? But what did we do ? When we 
raised the colored people to the rights of active citizenship 



362 Legislative. 

and opened to them all the privileges of eligibility, we 
excluded from those privileges a large and influential class 
of whites ; in other words, we lifted the late slave, unedu- 
cated and inexperienced as he was, — I repeat, without his 
fault, — not merely to the level of the late master class, but c 
even above it. We asked certain white men to recognize 
the colored man in a political status not only as high but 
even higher than their own. We might say that under the 
circumstances we had a perfect right to do that, and I 
will not dispute it ; but I ask you most earnestly, sir, ic 
was it wise to do it ? If you desired the white man to 
accept and recognize the political equality of the black, 
was it wise to imbitter and exasperate his spirit with the 
stinging stigma of his own inferiority ? Was it wise to 
withhold from him privileges in the enjoyment of which he 15 
was to protect the late slave ? This was not assuaging, 
disarming prejudice ; this was rather inciting, it was exasper- 
ating it. American statesmen will understand and appre- 
ciate human nature as it has developed itself under the 
influence of free institutions. We know that if we want any 20 
class of people to overcome their prejudices in respecting 
the political rights and privileges of any other class, the 
very first thing we have to do is to accord the same 
rights and privileges to them. No American was ever 
inclined to recognize in others public rights and privileges 25 
from which he himself was excluded ; and for aught I know, 
in this very feeling, although it may take an objectionable 
form, we find one of the safeguards of popular liberty. 

You tell me that the late rebels had deserved all this 
in the way of punishment. Granting that, I beg leave 30 
to suggest that this is not the question. The question 
is : What were the means best calculated to overcome 
the difficulties standing in the way of a willing and uni- 
versal recognition of the new rights and privileges of the 
emancipated class ? What were the means to overcome 35 
the hostile influences impeding the development of the 



Carl Schurz. 363 

harmony of society in its new order? I am far from 
asserting that, had no disabiUties existed, universal suffrage 
would have been received by the Southern whites with 
universal favor. No, sir, most probably it would not ; but I 
5 do assert that the existence of disabilities, which put so 
large and influential a class of whites in point of political 
privileges below the colored people, could not fail to inflame 
those prejudices which stood in the way of a general and 
honest acceptance of the new order of things ; they increased 

10 instead of diminishing the dangers and difficulties surround- 
ing the emancipated class ; and nobody felt that more 
keenly than the colored people of the South themselves. 
To their honor be it said, following a just instinct, they were 
among the very first, not only in the South but all over the 

15 country, in entreating Congress to remove those odious dis- 
criminations which put in jeopardy their own rights by 
making them greater than those of others. From the 
colored people themselves, it seems, we have in this respect 
received a lesson in statesmanship. 

20 Well, then, what policy does common sense suggest to us 
now ? If we sincerely desire to give to the Southern States 
good and honest government, material prosperity, and 
measurable contentment, as far at least as we can contribute 
to that end ; if we really desire to weaken and disarm those 

25 prejudices and resentments which still disturb the harmony 
of society, will it not be wise, will it not be necessary, will it 
not be our duty to show that we are in no sense the allies 
and abettors of those who use their political power to plunder 
their fellow-citizens, and that we do not mean to keep one 

30 class of people in unnecessary degradation by withholding 
from them rights and privileges which all others enjoy ? 
Seeing the mischief which the system of disabilities is 
accomplishing, is it not time that there should be at least an 
end of it ; or is there any good it can possibly do to make 

35 up for the harm it has already wrought and is still working ? 
Look at it. Do these disabilities serve in any way to 



364 Legislative. 

protect anybody in his rights or in his hberty or in his 
property or in his hfe ? Does the fact that some men are 
excluded from office, in any sense or measure, make others 
more secure in their Uves or in their property or in their 
rights ? Can anybody tell me how ? Or do they, per- 5 
haps, prevent even those who are excluded from official 
position from doing mischief if they are mischievously in- 
clined ? Does the exclusion from office, does any feature of 
your system of political disabilities, take the revolver or the 
bowie-knife or the scourge from the hands of anyone who 10 
wishes to use it ? Does it destroy the influence of the more 
intelligent upon society, if they mean to use that influence 
for mischievous purposes ? 

We hear the Ku Klux outrages spoken of as a reason 
why political disabilities should not be removed. Did not 15 
these very same Ku Klux outrages happen while disabilities 
were in existence ? Is it not clear, then, that the existence 
of political disabilities did not prevent them ? No, sir, if 
political disabilities have any practical effect it is, while not 
in any degree diminishing the power of the evil-disposed for 20 
mischief, to incite and sharpen their mischievous inclination 
by increasing their discontent with the condition they live in. 

It must be clear to every impartial observer that were ever 
so many of those who are now disqualified put in office, they 
never could do with their official power as much mischief as 25 
the mere fact of the existence of the system of political dis- 
abilities, with its inevitable consequences is doing to-day. 
The scandals of misgovernment in the South which we com- 
plain of I admit were not the first and original cause of the 
Ku Klux outrages. But every candid observer will also 30 
have to admit that they did serve to keep the Ku Klux spirit 
alive. Without such incitement it might gradually by this 
time, to a great extent at least, have spent itself. And now 
if the scandals of misgovernment were, partly at least, owing 
to the exclusion of so large a portion of the intelligence and 35 
experience of the South from the active management of affairs, 



Carl Schurz. 365 

must it not be clear that a measure which will tend to remedy 
this evil may also tend to reduce the causes which still dis- 
turb the peace and harmony of society ? 

We accuse the Southern whites of having missed their 
5 chance of gaining the confidence of the emancipated class 
when, by a fairly demonstrated purpose of recognizing and 
protecting them in their rights, they might have acquired 
upon them a salutary influence. That accusation is by no 
means unjust ; but must we not admit, also, that by exclud- 

10 ing them from their political rights and privileges we put the 
damper of most serious discouragement upon the good inten- 
tions which might have grown up among them ? Let us 
place ourselves in their situation, and then I ask you how 
many of us would, under the same circumstances, have risen 

15 above the ordinary impulses of human nature to exert a 
salutary influence in defiance of our own prejudices, being 
so pointedly told every day that it was not the business of 
those laboring under political disabilities to meddle with 
public affairs at all ? And thus, in whatever direction you 

20 may turn your eyes, you look in vain for any practical good 
your political disabilities might possibly accomplish. You 
find nothing, absolutely nothing, in their practical effects but 
the aggravation of evils already existing, and the prevention 
of a salutary development. 

25 Is it not the part of wise men, sir, to acknowledge the 

failure of a policy like this in order to remedy it, especially 

since every candid mind must recognize that, by continuing 

the mistake, absolutely no practical good can be subserved ? 

But I am told that the system of disabilities must be main- 

30 tained for certain moral effect. The senator from Indiana 
[Mr. Morton] took great pains to inform us that it is abso- 
lutely necessary to exclude somebody from office in order to 
demonstrate our disapprobation of the crime of rebellion. 
Methinks that the American people have signified their dis- 
approbation of the crime of rebellion in a far more pointed 
manner. They sent against the rebellion a million armed 



366 Legislative. 

men. We fought and conquered the armies of the rebels ; 
we carried desolation into their land ; we swept out of exis- 
tence that system of slavery which was the soul of their 
offense and was to be the corner-stone of their new empire. 
If that was not signifying our disapprobation of the crime of 5 
rebellion, then I humbly submit that your system of political 
disabilities, only excluding some persons from office, will 
scarcely do it. 

I remember, also, to have heard the argument that under 
all circumstances the law must be vindicated. What law in 10 
this case ? If any law is meant, it must be the law imposing 
the penalty of death upon the crime of treason. Well, if at 
the close of the War we had assumed the stern and bloody 
virtue of the ancient Roman, and had proclaimed that he 
who raises his hand against this republic must surely die, 15 
then we might have claimed for ourselves at least the merit 
of logical consistency. We might have thought that by 
erecting a row of gallows stretching from the Potomac to the 
Rio Grande, and by making a terrible example of all those 
who had proved faithless to their allegiance, we would strike 20 
terror into the hearts of this and coming generations, to 
make them tremble at the mere thought of treasonable un- 
dertakings. That we might have done. Why did we not ? 
Because the American people instinctively recoiled from the 
idea ; because every wise man remembered that where insur- 25 
rections are punished and avenged with the bloodiest hands, 
there insurrections do most frequently occur ; witness France 
and Spain and the southern part of this hemisphere ; that 
there is a fascination for bloody reckonings which allures 
instead of repelling — a fascination like that of the serpent's 3° 
eye, which irresistibly draws on its victim. The American 
people recoiled from it, because they felt and knew that the 
civilization of the nineteenth century has for such evils a 
better medicine than blood. 

Thus, sir, the penalty of treason, as provided for by law, 35 
remahied a dead letter on the statute book, and we instinc- 



Carl Schurz. 367 

tively adopted a generous policy, and we added fresh luster 
to the glory of the American name by doing so. And now 
you would speak of vindicating the law against treason, 
which demands death, by merely excluding a number of 
5 persons from eligibility to office ! Do you not see that, as 
a vindication of the law against treason, as an act of punish- 
ment, the system of disabilities sinks down to the level of a 
ridiculous mockery ? If you want your system of disabilities 
to appear at all in a respectable light, then, in the name of 

10 common sense, do not call it a punishment for treason. 
Standing there, as it does, stripped of all the justification it 
once derived from political necessity, it would appear only 
as the evidence of an impotent desire to be severe without 
the courage to cany it out. But, having once adopted the 

15 policy of generosit}^ the only question for us is how to make 
that policy most fruitful. The answer is : We shall make 
the policy of generosity most fruitful by making it most 
complete. 

The senator from Connecticut [Mr. Buckingham], whom 

20 I am so unfortunate as not to see in his seat to-day, when he 
opened the debate, endeavored to fortify his theory by an 
illustration borrowed from the Old Testament, and I am 
willing to take that illustration off his hands. He asked, if 
Absalom had lived after his treason, and had been excluded 

25 from his father's table, would he have had a just reason to 
complain of an unjust deprivation of rights ? It seems to 
me that story of Absalom contains a most excellent lesson, 
which the Senate of the United States ought to read cor- 
rectly. For the killing of his brother, Absalom had lived in 

30 banishment, from which the king, his father, permitted hira 
to return ; but the wayward son was but half pardoned, for 
he was not permitted to see his father's face. And it was 
for that reason, and then, that he went among the people to 
seduce them into a rebellion against his royal father's author- 

35 ity. Had he survived that rebellion, King David, as a pru- 
dent statesman, would either have killed his son Absalom or 



368 Legislative. 

he would have admitted him to his table, in order to make 
him a good son again by unstinted fatherly love. But he 
would certainly not have permitted his son Absalom to run 
at large, capable of doing mischief, and at the same time by 
small measures of degradation inciting him to do it. And 5 
that is just the policy we have followed. We have per- 
mitted the late rebels to run at large, capable of doing mis- 
chief, and then by small measures of degradation, utterly 
useless for any good purpose, we incited them to do it. 
Looking at your political disabilities with an impartial eye, 10 
you will find that, as a measure of punishment, they did not 
go far enough ; as a measure of policy they went much too 
far. We were far too generous to subjugate the hearts of 
our late enemies by terror; and we mixed our generosity 
with just enough of bitterness to prevent it from bearing its 15 
full fruit. I repeat, we can make the policy of generosity 
most fruitful only by making it most complete. What objec- 
tion, then, can stand against this consideration of public 
good ? 

You tell me that many of the late rebels do not deserve a 20 
full restoration of their rights. That may be so ; I do not 
deny it ; but yet, sir, if many of them do not deserve it, is it 
not a far more important consideration how much the wel- 
fare of the country will be promoted by it ? 

I am told that many of the late rebels, if we volunteer a 25 
pardon to them, would not appreciate it. I do not deny 
this ; it may be so, for the race of fools, unfortunately, is not 
all dead yet ; but if they do not appreciate it, shall we have 
no reason to appreciate the great good which by this measure 
of generosity will be conferred upon the whole land ? 30 

Some senator, referring to a defaulting paymaster who 
experienced the whole rigor of the law, asked us, '' When a 
poor defaulter is punished, shall a rebel go free ? Is em- 
bezzlement a greater crime than treason ? " No, sir, it is 
not ; but again I repeat that is not the question. The ques- 3^ 
tion is whether a general amnesty to rebels is not far more 



Carl Schurz. 369 

urgently demanded by the public interest than a general par- 
don for thieves. Whatever may be said of the greatness 
and the heinous character of the crime of rebellion, a single 
glance at the history of the world and at the practice of 
5 other nations will convince you that in all civilized coun- 
tries the measure of punishment to be visited on those guilty 
of that crime is almost uniformly treated as a question of 
great policy and almost never as a question of strict justice. 
And why is this ? Why is it that a thief, although pardoned, 

10 will never again be regarded as an untainted member of soci- 
ety, while a pardoned rebel may still rise to the highest honors 
of the state, and sometimes even gain the sincere and general 
esteem and confidence of his countrymen ? Because a broad 
line of distinction is drawn between a violation of law in 

15 which political opinion is the controlling element (however 
erroneous, nay, however revolting that opinion may be, and 
however disastrous the consequences of the act) and those 
infamous crimes of which moral depravity is the principal 
ingredient; and because even the most disastrous political 

20 conflicts may be composed for the common good by a con- 
ciliatory process, while the infamous crime always calls for a 
strictly penal correction. You may call this just or not, but 
such is the public opinion of the civilized world, and you find 
it in every civilized country. 

25 Look at the nations around us. In the Parliament of Ger- 
many how many men are there sitting who were once what 
you would call fugitives from justice, exiles on account of 
their revolutionary acts, now admitted to the great council of 
the nation in the fullness of their rights and privileges — and 

30 mark you, without having been asked to abjure the opinions 
they formerly held, for at the present moment most of them 
still belong to the Liberal opposition. Look at Austria, 
where Count Andrassy, a man who, in 1849, was condemned 
to the gallows as a rebel, at this moment stands at the head 

35 of the imperial ministry ; and those who know the history of 
that country are fully aware that the policy of which that 



370 Legislative. 

amnesty was a part, which opened to Count Andrassy the 
road to power, has attached Hungary more closely than ever 
to the Austrian Crown, from which a narrow-minded policy 
of severity would have driven her. 

Now, sir, ought not we to profit by the wisdom of such 5 
examples ? It may be said that other Governments were far 
more rigorous in their first repressive measures, and that 
they put off the grant of a general amnesty much longer after 
suppressing an insurrection than we are required to do. So 
they did ; but is not this the great republic of the New World 10 
which marches in the very vanguard of modern civilization, 
and which, when an example of wisdom is set by other 
nations, should not only rise to its level, but far above it ? 

It seems now to be generally admitted that the time has 
come for a more comprehensive removal of political disabili- 15 
ties than has so far been granted. If that sentiment be sin- 
cere, if you really do desire to accomplish the greatest 
possible good by this measure that can be done, I would ask 
you what practical advantage do you expect to derive from 
the exclusions for which this bill provides ? Look at them, 20 
one after another. 

First, all those are excluded who, when the Rebellion 
broke out, were members of Congress, and left their seats in 
these halls to join it. Why are these men to be excluded as 
a class ? Because this class contains a number of prominent 25 
individuals, who, in the Rebellion, became particularly con- 
spicuous and obnoxious, and among them we find those whom 
we might designate as the original conspirators. But these 
are few, and they might have been mentioned by name. Most 
of those, however, who left their seats in Congress to make 30 
common cause with the rebels were in no way more responsi- 
ble for the Rebellion than other prominent men in the South 
who do not fall under this exception. If we accept at all the 
argument that it will be well for the cause of good govern- 
ment and the material welfare of the South to re-admit to the 35 
management of public affairs all the intelligence and politi- 



Carl Schurz. 371 

cal experience in those States, why, then, exclude as a class 
men who, having been members of Congress, may be pre- 
sumed to possess a higher degree of that intelligence and 
experience than the rest ? If you want that article at all for 
5 good purposes, I ask you, do you not want as large a supply 
of that article as you can obtain ? 

Leaving aside the original conspirators, is there any reason 
in the world why those members of Congress should be 
singled out from the numerous class of intelligent and prom- 
10 inent men who were or had been in office and had taken the 
same oath which is administered in these halls ? Look at it. 
You do not propose to continue the disqualification of men 
who served this country as foreign ministers, who left their 
important posts, betrayed the interests of this country in for- 
15 eign lands to come back and join the Rebellion ; you do not 
propose to exclude from the benefit of this act those who 
sat upon the bench and doffed the judicial ermine to take 
part in the Rebellion ; and if such men are not to be disfran- 
chised, why disfranchise the common run of the congress- 
20 men, whose guilt is certainly not greater, if it be as great ? 
Can you tell me ? Is it wise even to incur the suspicion of 
making an exception merely for the sake of excluding some- 
body, when no possible good can be accomplished by it, and 
when you can thus only increase the number of men incited 
25 to discontent and mischief by small and unnecessary degra- 
dations ? 

And now as to the original conspirators, what has become 
of them ? Some of them are dead ; and as to those who are 
still living, I ask you, sir, are they not dead also ? Look at 
30 Jefferson Davis himself. What if you exclude even him — 
and certainly our feelings would naturally impel us to do so ; 
but let our reason speak — what if you exclude even him ? 
Would you not give him an importance which otherwise he 
never would possess, by making people believe that you are 
35 even occupying your minds enough with him to make him an 
exception to an act of generous wisdom ? Truly to refrain 



372 Legislative. 

from making an act of amnesty general on account of the 
original conspirators, candidly speaking, I would not con- 
sider worth while. I would not leave them the pitiable dis- 
tinction of not being pardoned. Your very generosity will 
be to them the source of the bitterest disappointment. As 
long as they are excluded, they may still find some satisfac- 
tion in the delusion of being considered men of dangerous 
importance. Their very disabilities they look upon to-day as a 
recognition of their power. They may still make themselves 
and others believe that, were the Southern people only left lo 
free in their choice, they would eagerly raise them again to 
the highest honors. 

But you relieve them of their exclusion, and they will at 
once become conscious of their nothingness, a nothingness 
most glaringly conspicuous then, for you will have drawn away 15 
the veil that has concealed it. I suspect that gentlemen on 
the Democratic side of the House, whom they would consider 
their political friends, would be filled with dismay at the 
mere thought of their reappearance among them. If there 
is anything that could prevent them from voting for univer- 20 
sal amnesty, it might be the fear, if they entertained it at all, 
of seeing Jefferson Davis once more a senator of the United 
States. 

But more than that: you relieve that class of persons, 
those old misleaders, of their exclusion, and they will soon 25 
discover that the people whom they once plunged into disas- 
ter and ruin have in the meantime grown, if not as wise as 
they ought to be, certainly too wise to put their destinies in 
the hands of the same men again. I hope, therefore, you 
will not strip this measure of the merit of being a general 30 
amnesty to spare the original plotters this most salutary ex- 
perience. 

So much for the first exception. Now to the second. It 
excludes from the benefit of this act all those who were offi- 
cers of the Army or of the Navy and then joined the Rebel- 35 
lion. Why exclude that class of persons ? I have heard the 



I 



Carl Schurz. 373 



reason very frequently stated upon the floor of the Senate ; 
it is because those men have been educated at the pubhc 
expense, and their turning against the Government was there- 
fore an act of pecuUar faithlessness and black ingratitude. 
5 That might appear a very strong argument at first sight. 
But I ask you was it not one of the very first acts of this 
administration to appoint one of the most prominent and con- 
spicuous of that class to a very lucrative and respectable pub- 
lic office ? I mean General Longstreet. He had obtained 

10 his military education at the expense of the American people. 
He was one of the wards, one of the pets of the American 
Republic, and then he turned against it as a rebel. What- 
ever of faithlessness, whatever of black ingratitude there is in 
such conduct, it was in his ; and yet, in spite of all this, the 

1 5 President nominated him for an office, and your consent, sen- 
ators, made him a public dignitary. Why did you break the 
rule in his case ? I will not say that you did it because he 
had become a Republican, for I am far from attributing any 
mere partisan motive to your action. No ; you did it because 

20 his conduct after the close of hostilities had been that of a 
well-disposed and law-abiding citizen. Thus, then, the rule 
which you, senators, have established for your own conduct 
is simply this : you will, in the case of officers of the Army or 
the Navy, waive the charge of peculiar faithlessness and 

25 ingratitude if the persons in question after the War had 
become law-abiding and well-disposed citizens. Well, is it 
not a fact universally recognized, and I believe entirely uncon- 
tradicted, that of all classes of men connected with the Rebel- 
lion there is not one whose conduct since the close of the War 

30 has been so unexceptionable, and in a great many instances 
so beneficial in its influence upon Southern society, as the 
officers of the Army and the Navy, especially those who before 
the War had been members of our regular establishments ? 
Why, then, except them from this act of amnesty ? If you 

35 take subsequent good conduct into account at all, these men 
are the very last who as a class ought to be excluded. And 



374 Legislative. 



would it not be well to encourage them in well-doing by a 
sign on your part that they are not to be looked upon as out- 
casts whose influence is not desired, even when they are 
inclined to use it for the promotion of the common welfare ? 

The third class excluded consists of those who were mem- 
bers of State conventions, and in those State conventions 
voted for ordinances of secession. If we may judge from 
the words which fell from the lips of the senator from Indiana, 
they were the objects of his particular displeasure. Why 
this ? Here we have a large number of men of local standing 
who in some cases may have been leaders on a small scale, 
but most of whom were drawn into the whirl of the revolution- 
ary movement just like the rest of the Southern population. If 
you accept the proposition that it will be well and wise to per- 
mit the intelligence of the country to participate in the man- 
agement of the public business, the exclusion of just these 
people will appear especially inappropriate, because their local 
influence might be made peculiarly beneficial ; and if you 
exclude these persons, whose number is considerable, you 
tell just that class of people whose co-operation might be 
made most valuable that their co-operation is not wanted, for 
the reason that, according to the meaning and intent of your 
system of disabilities, public affairs are no business of theirs. 
You object that they are more guilty than the rest. Suppose 
they are — and in many cases I am sure they are only 25 
apparently so — but if they were not guilty of any wrong, 
they would need no amnesty. Amnesty is made for those 
who bear a certain degree of guilt. Or would you indulge 
here in the solemn farce of giving pardon only to those who 
are presumably innocent ? You grant your amnesty that it 30 
may bear good fruit ; and if you do it for that purpose, then 
do not diminish the good fruit it may bear by leaving un- 
planted the most promising soil upon which it may grow. ^ 

A few words now about the second section of the bill | 
before you, which imposes upon those who desire to have 35 
the benefit of amnesty the duty of taking an oath to support 



I 



I 



Carl Schurz. 375 

the Constitution before some public officer, that oath to be 
registered, the Hst to be laid before Congress and to be pre- 
served in the office of the Secretary of State. Sir, I ask you, 
can you or any one tell me what practical good is to be 
5 accomplished by a provision like this ? You may say that 
the taking of another oath will do nobody any harm. Prob- 
ably not ; but can you tell me, in the name of common sense, 
what harm in this case the taking of that oath will prevent ? 
Or have we read the history of the world in vain, that we 

lo should not know yet how little political oaths are worth to 
improve the morality of a people or to secure the stability 
of a government ? And what do you mean to accomplish by 
making up and preserving your lists of pardoned persons ? 
Can they be of any possible advantage to the country in any 

15 way ? Why, then, load down an act like this with such use- 
less circumstance, while, as an act of grace and wisdom, it 
certainly ought to be as straightforward and simple as 
possible ? 

Let me now in a few words once more sum up the whole 

20 meaning of the question which we are now engaged in 
discussing. No candid man can deny that our system of 
political disabilities is in no way calculated to protect the 
rights or the property or the life or the liberty of any 
living man, or in any way practically to prevent the evil- 

25 disposed from doing mischief. Why do you think of granting 
any amnesty at all ? Is it not to produce on the popular mind 
in the South a conciliatory effect, to quicken the germs of good 
intentions, to encourage those who can exert a beneficial in- 
fluence, to remove the pretexts of ill-feeling and animosity, 

30 and to aid in securing to the Southern States the blessings of 

, good and honest government ? If that is not your design, 
what can it be ? 

But if it be this, if you really do desire to produce such 
moral effects, then I entreat you also to consider what moral 

35 means you have to employ in order to bring forth those 
moral effects you contemplate. If an act of generous states- 



37^ Legislative. 

manship, or of statesman-like generosity, is to bear full fruit, 
it should give not as little as possible, but it should 
give as much as possible. You must not do things by 
halves if you want to produce whole results. You must 
not expose yourself to the suspicion of a narrow-minded 5 
desire to pinch off the size of your gift wherever there is a 
chance for it, as if you were afraid you could by any possi- 
bility give too much, when giving more would benefit the 
country more, and when giving less would detract from the 
beneficent effect of that which you do give. 10 

Let me tell you it is the experience of all civilized nations 
the world over, when an amnesty is to be granted at all, the 
completest amnesty is always the best. Any limitation you 
may impose, however plausible it may seem at first sight, will 
be calculated to take away much of the virtue of that which is 15 
granted. I entreat you, then, in the name of the accumulated 
experience of history , let there be an end of these bitter and use- 
less and disturbing questions ; let the books be finally closed, ^ 
and when the subject is forever dismissed from our discus- t 
sions and our minds, we shall feel as much relieved as those 20 
who are relieved of their political disabilities. 

Sir, I have to say a few words about an accusation which 
has been brought against those who speak in favor of uni- 
versal amnesty. It is the accusation resorted to, in default of 
more solid argument, that those who advise amnesty, espe- 25 
cially universal amnesty, do so because they have fallen in 
love with the rebels. No, sir, it is not merely for the rebels 
I plead. We are asked. Shall the Rebellion go entirely un- 
punished ? No, sir, it shall not. Neither do I think that the 
Rebellion has gone entirely unpunished. I ask you, had the 30 
rebels nothing to lose but their lives and their offices ? Look 
at it There was a proud and arrogant aristocracy, planting 
their feet on the necks of the laboring people, and pretend- 
ing to be the born rulers of this great republic. They looked 
down, not only upon their slaves, but also upon the people 35 
of the North, with the haughty contempt of self-asserting 



Carl Schurz. 377 

superiority. When their pretensions to rule us all were first 
successfully disputed, they resolved to destroy this republic, 
and to build up on the corner-stone of slavery an empire of 
their own in which they could hold absolute sway. They 
5 made the attempt with the most overweeningly confident ex- 
pectation of certain victory. Then came the Civil War, and 
after four years of struggle their whole power and pride lay 
shivered to atoms at our feet, their sons dead by tens of 
thousands on the battle-fields of this country, their fields and 
10 their homes devasted, their fortunes destroyed ; and more 
than that, the whole social system in which they had their 
being, with all their hopes and pride, utterly wiped out ; sla- 
very forever abolished, and the slaves themselves created a 
political power before which they had to bow their heads, and 

j 15 they, broken, ruined, helpless, and hopeless in the dust be- 
fore those upon whom they had so haughtily looked down as 
their vassals and inferiors. Sir, can it be said that the Rebel- 
lion has gone entirely unpunished? 

, You may object that the loyal people, too, were subjected 

( 20 to terrible sufferings ; that their sons, too, were slaughtered 
by tens of thousands ; that the mourning of countless widows 
and orphans is still darkening our land ; that we are groan- 
ing under terrible burdens which the Rebellion has loaded 

j upon us, and that therefore part of the punishment has fallen 

' 25 upon the innocent. And it is certainly true. 

But look at the difference. We issued from this great 

1 conflict as conquerors ; upon the graves of our slain we 
could lay the wreath of victory; our widows and orphans, 

I while mourning the loss of their dearest, still remember with 

I 30 proud exultation that the blood of their husbands and fathers 
was not spilled in vain ; that it flowed for the greatest and 
holiest and at the same time the most victorious of causes ; and 

' when our people labor in the sweat of their brow to pay the 

debt which the Rebellion has loaded upon us, they do it with 

35 the proud consciousness that the heavy price they have paid 

is infinitely overbalanced by the value of the results they 



378 Legislative. 

have gained : slavery abolished ; the great American Re- 
public purified of her foulest stain ; the American people no 
longer a people of masters and slaves, but a people of equal 
citizens ; the most dangerous element of disturbance and 
disintegration wiped out from among us ; this country put 
upon the course of harmonious development, greater, more 
beautiful, mightier than ever in its self-conscious power. 
And thus, whatever losses, w^hatever sacrifices, whatever suf- 
ferings we may have endured, they appear before us in a 
blaze of glory. r 

But how do the Southern people stand there ? All they 
have sacrificed, all they have lost, all the blood they have 
spilled, all the desolation of their homes, all the distress that 
stares them in the face, all the wreck and ruin they see \ 
around them — all for nothing, all for a wicked folly, all for i 
a disastrous infatuation; the very graves of their slain 
nothing but monuments of a shado^vy delusion ; all their ; 
former hopes vanished forever; and the very magniloquence \ 
which some of their leaders are still indulging in, nothing 
but a mocking illustration of their utter discomfiture ! Ah, 20 
sir, if ever human efforts broke down in irretrievable disas- 
ter, if ever human pride was humiliated to the dust, if ever | 
human hopes were turned into despair, there you behold 
them. 

You may say that they deserved it all. Yes, but surely, 25 
sir, you cannot say that the Rebellion has gone entirely un- 
punished. Nor will the senator from Indiana, with all his 
declamation (and I am sorry not now to see him before me), 
make any sane man believe that had no political disabilities 
ever been imposed, the history of the RebelHon, as long as 30 
the memory of men retains the recollection of the great story, 
will ever encourage a future generation to rebel again, or 
that if even this great example of disaster should fail to ex- 
tinguish the spirit of rebellion, his little scare-crow of exclu- 
sion from office will be more than a thing to be laughed at 35 
by little boys. 



ill 




Carl Schurz. 379 

And yet, sir, it is certainly true that after the close of the 
War we treated the rebels with a generosity never excelled 
in the history of the world. And thus, in advising a general 
amnesty it is not merely for the rebels I plead. But I plead 

-^ 5 for the good of the country, which in its best interests will 
be benefited by amnesty just as much as the rebels are bene- 
fited themselves, if not more. 

Nay, sir, I plead also for the colored people of the South, 
whose path will be smoothed by a measure calculated to as- 

^ 10 suage some of the prejudices and to disarm some of the 
bitternesses which still confront them ; and I am sure that 
nothing better could happen to them, nothing could be more 
apt to make the growth of good feeling between them and 
the former master-class easier, than the destruction of a sys- 
1 5 tern which, by giving them a political superiority, endangers 
their peaceable enjoyment of equal rights. 

And I may say to my honorable friend from Massachu- 
setts [Mr. Sumner], who knows well how highly I esteem 
hhn, and whom I sincerely honor for his solicitude concerning 
:o the welfare of the lowly, that my desire to see their wrongs 
righted is no less sincere and no less unhampered by any 
traditional prejudice than his ; although I will confess that 
as to the constitutional means to that end we may sometimes 
seriously differ ; but I cannot refrain from expressing my 

■-^•:25 regret that this measure should be loaded with anything that 

1 1 is not strictly germane to it, knowing as we both do that the 

amendment he has proposed cannot secure the necessary 

two-thirds vote in at least one of the Houses of Congress, 

and that therefore it will be calculated to involve this meas- 

3'^|J3o ure also in the danger of common failure. I repeat, it is not 
merely for the rebels I plead; it is for the whole American 
people, for there is not a citizen in the land whose true inter- 
ests, rightly understood, are not largely concerned in every 
measure aft'ecting the peace and welfare of any State of this 

^Ti35 Union. 

Believe me, senators, the statesmanship which this period 



380 Legislative. 

of our history demands is not exhausted by high-sounding 
declamation about the greatness of the crime of rebellion, 
and fearful predictions as to what is going to happen unless 
the rebels are punished with sufficient severity. We have 
heard so much of this from some gentlemen, and so little $ 
else, that the inquiry naturally suggests itself whether this is 
the whole compass, the be-all and the end-all of their politi- 
cal wisdom and their political virtue ; whether it is really 
their opinion that the people of the South may be plundered 
with impunity by rascals in power, that the substance of 10 
those States may be wasted, that their credit may be ruined, 
that their prosperity may be blighted, that their future may 
be blasted, that the poison of bad feeling may still be kept 
working where we might do something to assuage its effects ; 
that the people may lose more and more their faith in the 1 5 
efficiency of self-government and of republican institutions ; 
that all this may happen, and we look on complacently, if 
we can only continue to keep a thorn in the side of our late 
enemies, and to demonstrate again and again, as the senator 
from Indiana has it, our disapprobation of the crime of 20 
rebellion ? 

Sir, such appeals as these, which we have heard so fre- 
quently, may be well apt to tickle the ear of an unthinking 
multitude. But unless I am grievously in error, the people 
of the United States are a multitude not unthinking. The 25 
American people are fast becoming aware that, great as the 
crime of rebellion is, there are other villainies beside it ; that 
much as it may deserve punishment there are other evils 
flagrant enough to demand energetic correction ; that the 
remedy for such evils does, after all, not consist in the 30 
maintenance of political disabilities, and that it would be 
well to look behind those vociferous demonstrations of ex- 
clusive and austere patriotism to see what abuses and faults 
of policy they are to cover, and what rotten sores they are to 
disguise. The American people are fast beginning to per- 35 
ceive that good and honest government in the South, as well 



Carl Schurz. 381 

as throughout the whole countn-, restormg a measurable de- 
gree of confidence and contentment, Avill do infinitely more 
to revive true loyalt}^ and a healthy national spirit, than 
keeping alive the resentments of the past by a useless 
5 degradation of certain classes of persons ; and that we 
shall fail to do our dut}* unless we use ever)' means to con- 
tribute our share to that end. And those, I apprehend, 
expose themselves to grievous disappointment who still 
think that, by dinning again and again in the ears of the 

10 people the old battle-cries of the Civil War, they can befog 
the popular mind as to the true requirements of the times, 
and overawe and terrorize the public sentiment of the 
country. 

Sir, I am coming to a close. One word more. We have 

15 heard protests here against amnesty as a measure intended 
to make us forget the past and to obscure and confuse our 
mioral appreciation of the great events of our history. No, 
sir ; neither would I have the past forgotten, with its great 
experiences and teachings. Let the memory of the grand 

20 uprising for the integrity of the republic ; let those heroic 
deeds and sacrifices before which the power of slavery 
crumbled into dust, be forever held in proud and sacred 
remembrance by the American people. Let it never be 
forgotten, as I am sure it never can be forgotten, that the 

25 American Union, supported by her faithful children, can 
never be undermined by any conspiracy ever so daring, nor 
overthjro^\'n by any array of enemies ever so formidable. Let 
the great achievements of our struggle for national existence 
be forever a source of lofty inspiration to our children and 

30 children's children. 

But surely, sir, I think no generous resolution on our part 
will mar the lustre of those memories, nor will it obliterate 
from the Southern mind the overwhelming experience that 
he who raises his hand against the majest}^ of this republic 

35 is doomed to disastrous humiliation and ruin. I would not 
have it forgotten ; and, indeed, that experience is so indel- 



382 Legislative. 

ibly written upon the Southern country that nothing can 
wipe it out. I 

But, sir, as the people of the North and of the South must 
hve together as one people, and as they must be bound to- 
gether by the bonds of a common national feeling, I ask you, 5 
will it not be well for us so to act that the history of our 
great civil conflict, which cannot be forgotten, can never be 
remembered by Southern men without finding in its closing 
chapter this irresistible assurance : that we, their conquerors, 
meant to be, and were after all, not their enemies, but their 10 
friends? When the Southern people con over the distress- 
ing catalogue of the misfortunes they have brought upon 
themselves, will it not be well, will it not be " devoutly to be 
wished " for our common future, if at the end of that cata- 
logue they find an act which will force every fair-minded 15 
man in the South to say of the Northern people, " When we 
were at war they inflicted upon us the severities of war; but 
when the contest had closed and they found us prostrate 
before them, grievously suffering, surrounded by the most 
perplexing difficulties and on the brink of new disasters, 20 
they promptly swept all the resentments of the past out of 
their way and stretched out their hands to us with the very 
fullest measure of generosity — anxious, eager to lift us up 
from our prostration ? " 

Sir, will not this do something to dispel those mists 25 
of error and prejudice which are still clouding the Southern 
mind ? I ask again, will it not be well to add to the sad 
memories of the past which forever will live in their minds, 
this cheering experience, so apt to prepare them for the 
harmony of a better and common future ? 30 

No, sir ; I would not have the past forgotten, but I 
would have its history completed and crowned by an act 
most worthy of a great, noble, and wise people. By all the 
means which we have in our hands, I would make even 
those who have sinned against this republic see in its flag, 35 
not the symbol of their lasting degradation, but of rights 



Carl Schurz. 383 

equal to all ; I would make them feel in their hearts that in 
its good and evil fortunes their rights and interests are 
bound up just as ours are, and that therefore its peace, its 
welfare, its honor, and its greatness may and ought to be as 
5 dear to them as they are to us. 

I do not, indeed, indulge in the delusion that this act 
alone will remedy all the evils which we now deplore. No, 
it will not ; but it will be a powerful appeal to the very best 
instincts and impulses of human nature ; it will, like a warm 

10 ray of sunshine in springtime, quicken and call to light the 
germs of good intention wherever they exist ; it will give 
new courage, confidence, and inspiration to the well-dis- 
posed ; it will weaken the power of the mischievous, by 
stripping off their pretexts and exposing in their nakedness 

15 the wicked designs they still may cherish ; it will light 
anew the beneficent glow of fraternal feeling and of national 
spirit ; for, sir, your good sense as well as your heart must 
tell you that, when this is truly a people of citizens equal in 
their political rights, it will then be easier to make it also a 

20 people of brothers. 



POLITICAL ADDRESSES. 



No. I is the personal talk of a leader to his followers, — here a vast 
throng. No. IV is also the address of a leader to his people, but on an 
unusually high plane, on which patriotism becomes one with religion. 
Nos. II and III are protests — the first made as a duty to oneself, 
with no hope of changing the set of public feeling-; the second made 
in the hope that a clear, probative, persuasive statement of the reasons 
why the proposed course of action is unwarranted and unwise may con- 
vince the public. 



I. 

DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
On Repeal of the Union. 

Hill of Tara, August i^tk, 184.^. 

[Repeal of the Act of Union of 1800 which established the legis- 
lative union of England and Ireland from January i, 1801 " was spreading 
like fire before the wind. In order to fan it into a general conflagration, 
O'Connell announced his intention of holding a public meeting in each 
5 county in Ireland in turn. The first was held at Trim, in county 
Meath, on 19th March. The spectacle of thirty thousand persons 
meeting in orderly array to protest against the Union, and to petition 
for its repeal, produced a profound effect on the public mind in Ireland 
and England. On 21st May there was another monster meeting at 

ID Cork, at which it was calculated that not less than five hundred thou- 
sand persons were present. The meeting was the Association's answer 
to Peel's threat to uphold the Union even at the risk of civU war. The 
day following the Cork meeting, the Lord Lieutenant, Earl de Grey, 
removed O'Connell and Lord French from the magistracy of their 

15 respective counties. As a protest against this high-handed and uncon- 
stitutional proceeding, prominent Whigs retired from the Commission 
of the Peace, with the result of swelling the ranks of Repeal with valu- 
able recruits. On 29th May, the Irish Chief Secretary, Lord Eliot, 
introduced an Arms Bill, or, as it might with more propriety have been 

20 called, a Bill for disarming the Cathohc peasantry of Ireland, into the 
House of Commons. Its object was prospective and preventive, rather 
than retrospective and retaliatory. So far as the condition of the coun- 
try was concerned, it was absolutely uncalled for. The palpable injus- 
tice of it aroused the indignation of the opposition, and so strenuous 

25 was the resistance offered to it that August was drawing to a close 
before it received the royal assent. Encouraged by this unexpected 
diversion in his favour, O'Connell pushed on the agitation with all his 
might. Monster meeting succeeded monster meeting in rapid succes- 
sion, culminating in the ever memorable one at Tara, on 1 5th August. 

30 Tuesday, the 1 5th of August, the Feast of the Assumption of the 
Blessed Virgin in the Roman Catholic calendar, broke warm and bright. 
The enthusiasm of the people was unbounded : for had not the Libera- 

387 ., 



388 



Political Addresses. 



tor promised that that year should witness the Repeal of the Union, and 
the restoration of their native Parliament ? 

For days before the Hill had presented tokens of unwonted activity. 
In the very centre of the topmost level of it joiners had been at work 
erecting a mighty platform for the speakers. By consent of the bishop 5 
of the diocese, numerous altars had been raised for the celebration of the 
Mass. Repealers from distant counties — from far-off Clare, from 
Longford and Galway, bringing their provisions with them — had been 
bivouacking on it, some of them for nights together, under the open sky. 
Standing on the top of the Hill, it was a solemn and impressive sight 10 
that met the eye that August morning. For miles around the country 
was black with human beings wending their way to the place of meet- 
ing. Close on a million persons, it was calculated, had come together ; 
but calculation was out of the question. As far as the eye could reach, 
nothing could be seen but compact masses of people moving towards 15 
the central point. Not less impressive than the number of them was 
their orderly demeanour, the perfect confidence reposed by each in the 
integrity of his neighbour, the absence of rowdyism of every description, 
the gentle courtesy displayed towards the women and children, of 
whom there were thousands present. The deep devotion with which, 20 
bare headed and on bended knees, they listened to the ministrations of 
their religion ; the savour of incense wafted through the air from a 
hundred censers ; the silence broken only by the silver tinkle of the 
sacring-bell and the low hum of the priests' voices, added solemriess 
to the scene, and gave to the demonstration the appearance of a reli- 25 
gious service. 

It was high noon before O'Connell's carriage reached the outskirts of 
the meeting. A burst of music from the assembled temperance bands 
announced his arrival, and from the whole multitude there went up one 
tremendous shout of welcome. It was the crowning day of O'Connell's 30 
life. Victories he had won before — victories in the Senate House, and 
in the Law Courts ; but before such a demonstration as this all former 
achievements seemed to dwindle to nothing, and he might well have 
been forgiven for thinking that they had that day reached a turning- 
point in their national history: that after long years of suffering and 35 
oppression, Ireland was once more to become a nation. And the means 
by which the victory had been attained were as important as — ten times 
more important than — the victory itself. All his life long he had been 
teaching his countrymen that constitutional victories must be won by 
constitutional means ; that for them no political change whatsoever was 40 
worth the shedding of a single drop of human blood; and his country- 
men seemed to have learned the lesson. If they had, the future was 
full of hope for them and for their children's children." — Daniel 
O^ Connelly R. Dunlop, pp. 344-50. G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1900]. 



Daniel O'Connell. 389 

Fellow-Irishmen : It would be the extreme of affecta- 
tion in me to suggest that I have not some claim to be the 
leader of this majestic meeting. It would be worse than 
affectation ; it would be drivelling folly, if I were not to feel 
5 the awful responsibility to my country and my Creator 
which the part I have taken in this mighty movement im- 
poses on me. Yes ; I feel the tremendous nature of that 
responsibility. Ireland is roused from one end to the other. 
Her multitudinous population has but one expression and 

10 one wish, and that is for the extinction of the Union and the 
restoration of her nationality. (A cry of"' No compromise 1 ") 
Who talks of compromise ? I have come here, not for the 
purpose of making a schoolboy's attempt at declamatory elo- 
quence, not to exaggerate the historical importance of the 

15 spot on which we now stand, or to endeavour to revive in 
your recollection any of those poetic imaginings respecting 
it which have been as familiar as household words. But this 
it is impossible to conceal or deny, that Tara is surrounded 
by historical reminiscences which give it an importance 

20 worthy of being considered by everyone who approaches it 
for political purposes, and an elevation in the public mind 
which no other part of Ireland possesses. We are standing 
upon Tara of the Kings ; the spot where the monarchs of 
Ireland were elected, and where the chieftains of Ireland 

25 bound themselves, by the Ynost solemn pledges of honour, to 
protect their native land against the Dane and every stranger. 
This was emphatically the spot from which emanated every 
social power and legal authority by which the force of the 
entire country was concentrated for the purposes of national 

30 defence. 

On this spot I have a most important duty to perform. I 
here protest, in the name of my country and in the name of 
my God, against the unfounded and unjust Union. My prop- 
osition to Ireland is that the Union is not binding on her 

35 people. It is void in conscience and in principle, and as a 
matter of constitutional law I attest these facts. Yes, I 



390 Political Addresses. 

attest by everything that is sacred, without being profane, 
the truth of my assertions. There is no real union between 
the two countries, and my proposition is that there was no 
authority given to anyone to pass the Act of Union. Neither 
the EngHsh nor the Irish Legislature was competent to pass 5 
that Act, and I arraign it on these grounds. One authority 
alone could make that Act binding, and that was the voice 
of the people of Ireland. The Irish Parliament was elected 
to make laws and not to make legislatures ; and, therefore, 
it had no right to assume the authority to pass the Act of 10 
Union. The Irish Parliament was elected by the Irish peo- 
ple as their trustees ; the people were their masters, and the 
members were their servants, and had no right to transfer 
the property to any other power on earth. If the Irish Par- 
liament had transferred its power of legislation to the French 15 
Chamber, would any man assert that the Act was valid? 
Would any man be mad enough to assert it ; would any man 
be insane enough to assert it, and would the insanity of the 
assertion be mitigated by sending any number of members 
to the French Chamber? Everybody must admit that it 20 
would not. What care I for France? — and I care as little 
for England as for France, for both countries are foreign to 
me. The very highest authority in England has proclaimed 
us to be aliens in blood, in religion, and in language. 
{Groa7is.) Do not groan him for having proved himself 25 
honest on one occasion by declaring my opinion. But to 
show the invalidity of the Union I could quote the authority 
of Locke on " Parliament." I will, however, only detain 
you by quoting the declaration of Lord Plunket in the Irish 
Parliament, who told them that they had no authority to 30 
transfer the legislation of the country to other hands. As 
well, said he, might a maniac imagine that the blow by 
which he destroys his Avretched body annihilates his im- 
mortal soul, as you to imagine that you can annihilate the 
soul of Ireland — her constitutional rights. 35 

I need not detain you by quoting authorities to show the 



Daniel O'Connell. 391 

invalidity of the Union. I am here the representative of the 
Irish nation, and in the name of that moral, temperate, vir- 
tuous, and religious people, I proclaim the Union a nullity. 
Saurin, who had been the representative of the Tory party 
5 for twenty years, distinctly declared that the Act of Union 
was invalid. He said that the Irish House of Commons 
had no right, had no power, to pass the Union, and that the 
people of Ireland would be justified, the first opportunity 
that presented itself, in effecting its repeal. So they are. 

10 The authorities of the country were charged with the enact- 
ment, the alteration, or the administration of its laws. These 
were their powers ; but they had no authority to alter or 
overthrow the Constitution. I therefore proclaim the nullity 
of the Union. In the face of Europe I proclaim its nullity. 

15 In the face of France, especially, and of Spain, I proclaim 
its nullity ; and I proclaim its nullity in the face of the liber- 
ated States of America. I go farther, and proclaim its nul- 
lity on the grounds of the iniquitous means by which it was 
carried. It was effected by the most flagrant fraud. A 

20 rebellion was provoked by the Government of the day, in 
order that they might have a pretext for crushing the liber- 
ties of Ireland. There w^as this addition to the fraud, that 
at the time of the Union Ireland had no legal protection. 
The Habeas Corpus Act was suspended, and the lives and 

25 liberties of the people were at the mercy of courts-martial. 
You remember the shrieks of those who suffered under 
martial law. One day from Trim the troops were marched 
out and made desolate the country around them. No man 
was safe during the entire time the Union was under discus- 

30 sion. The next fraud was that the Irish people were not 
allowed to meet to remonstrate against it. Two county 
meetings, convened by the High Sheriffs of these counties, 
pursuant to requisitions presented to them, were dispersed 
at the point of the bayonet. In King's County the High 

35 Sheriff called the people together in the Court-house, and 
Colonel Connor of the North Cork Militia, supported by 



II 



392 Political Addresses. 

artillery and a troop of horse, entered the Court-house at the 
head of two hundred of his regiment and turned out the Sher- 
iff, Magistrates, Grand Jurors, and freeholders assembled to 
petition against the enactment of the Union. (A voice. — 
"We'll engage they won't do it now ! ") In Tipper ary a sim- 5 
ilar scene took place. A meeting convened by the High 
Sheriff was dispersed at the point of the bayonet. Thus 
public sentiment was stifled ; and if there was a compact, as 
is alleged, it is void on account of the fraud and force by 
which it was carried. But the voice of Ireland, though 10 
forcibly suppressed at public meetings, was not altogether 
dumb. Petitions were presented against the Union to which 
were attached no less than 770,000 signatures. And there 
were not 3,000 signatures for the Union, notwithstanding all 
the Government could do. 15' 

My next impeachment against the Union is the gross cor- 
ruption with which it was carried. No less than ;^i, 275,000 
was spent upon the rotten boroughs, and ;^2,ooo,ooo was ■ 
given in direct bribery. There was not one office that was V t 
not made instrumental to the carrying of the measure. Six 20 
to seven judges were raised to the Bench for the votes they 
gave in its support ; and no less than twelve bishops were 
elevated to the Episcopal Bench for having taken the side of 
the Union ; for corruption then spared nothing to effect its 
purpose — corruption was never carried so far ; and if this 25 
is to be binding on the Irish nation, there is no use in hon- 
esty at all. Yet in spite of all the means employed, the ene- 
mies of Ireland did not succeed at once. There was a 
majority of eleven against the Union the first time. But 
before the proposition was brought forward a second time, 30 
members who could not be influenced to vote for the measure 
were bribed to vacate their seats, to which a number of 
English and Scotch officers, brought over for the purpose, 
were elected, and by their votes the Union was carried. In 
the name of the great Irish nation I proclaim it a nullity. At 35 
the time of the Union the national debt of Ireland was only 



Daniel O'Connell, 



393 



;f2o, 000,000. The debt of England was ;!^44o,ooo,ooo. 
England took upon herself one-half the Irish debt, but she 
placed upon Ireland one-half of the ;^44o,ooo,ooo. England 
since that period has doubled her debt, and admitting a pro- 
5 portionate increase as against Ireland, the Irish debt would 
not now be more than ;^4o,ooo,ooo; and you may believe 
me when I say it in the name of the great Irish people, that 
we will never pay one shilling more. In fact, we owe but 
;^3o,ooo, as is clearly demonstrated in a book lately pub- 

10 lished by a near and dear relative of mine, Mr. John O'Con- 
nell, the member for Kilkenny. I am proud that a son of 
mine will be able, when the Repeal is carried, to meet any 
of England's financiers, and to prove to them the gross injus- 
tice inflicted upon Ireland. 

15 My next impeachment of the Union is its destructive and 
deleterious effect upon the industry and prosperity of the 
country. The county of Meath was once studded with 
noble residences. What is it now ? Even on the spot where 
what is called the great Duke of Wellington was born, in- 

20 stead of a splendid castle or noble residence, the briar and 
the bramble attest the treachery that produced them. You 
remember the once prosperous linen-weavers of Meath. 
There is scarcely a penny paid to them now. In short, the 
Union struck down the manufactures of Ireland. The Com- 

25 missioners of the Poor Law prove that 120,000 persons in 
Ireland are in a state of destitution during the greater part 
of each year. How is it that in one of the most fertile 
countries in the world this should occur ? The Irish never 
broke any of their bargains nor their treaties, and England 

30 never kept one that was made on her part. There is now a 
union of the legislatures, but I deny that there is a union of 
the nations, and I again proclaim the Act a nullity. England 
has given to her people a municipal reform extensive and 
satisfactory, while to Ireland she gives a municipal reform 

35 crippled and worthless. But the Union is more a nullity on 
ecclesiastical grounds ; for why should the great majority of 



394 Political Addresses. 

the people of Ireland pay for the support of a religion which 
they do not believe to be true ? The Union was carried by 
the most abominable corruption and bribery, by financial 
robbery on an extensive scale, which makes it the more 
heinous and oppressive ; and the result is that Ireland is 5 
saddled with an unjust debt, her commerce is taken from 
her, her trade is destroyed, and a large number of her people 
thus reduced to misery and distress. 

Yes, the people of Ireland are cruelly oppressed, and are 
we tamely to stand by and allow our dearest interests to be 10 
trampled upon ? Are we not to ask for redress ? Yes, we will 
ask for that which alone will give us redress — a Parliament 
of our own. And you will have it too, if you are quiet and 
orderly, and join with me in my present struggle. {Loud 
cheers?) Your cheers will be conveyed to England. Yes, the 15 
majority of this mighty multitude will be taken there. Old 
Wellington began by threatening us, and talked of civil war, 
but he says nothing about it now. He is getting inlet holes 
made in stone barracks. Now, only think of an old general 
doing such a thing ! As if, were there anything going on, the 20 
people would attack stone walls ! I have heard that a great 
deal of brandy and biscuits have been sent to the barracks, 
and I sincerely hope the poor soldiers will get some of them. ■ 
Your honest brothers, the soldiers, who have been sent to 
Ireland, are as orderly and as brave men as any in Ireland. 25 
I am sure that not one of you has a single complaint to 
make against them. If any of you have, say so. {Loud cries 
of " No, no ! " ) They are the bravest men in the world, and 
therefore I do not disparage them at all when I state this 
fact, that if they are sent to make war against the people, I y^ ! 
have enough women to beat them. There is no mockery or 
delusion in what I say. At the last fight for Ireland, when 
we were betrayed by a reliance on English honour, which we 
would never again confide in — for I would as soon confide 
in the honour of a certain black gentleman who has got two 35 
horns and hoofs — but, as I was saying, at the last battle 



Daniel O'Connell. 395 

for Ireland, when, after two days' hard fighting, the Irish 
were driven back by the fresh troops brought up by the 
EngUsh to the bridge of Limerick, at that point when the 
Irish soldiers retired fainting it was that the women of Lim- 
5 erick threw themselves in the way, and drove the enemy 
back fifteen, twenty, or thirty paces. Several of the poor 
women were killed in the struggle, and their shrieks of agony 
being heard by their countrymen, they again rallied and de- 
termined to die in their defence, and, doubly valiant in the 

10 defence of the women, they together routed the Saxons. 
Yes, I repeat, I have enough women to beat all the army of 
Ireland. It is idle for any minister or statesman to suppose 
for a moment that he can put down such a struggle as this 
for liberty. The only thing I fear is the conduct of some 

15 ruffians who are called Ribbonmen, I know there are such 
blackguards, for I have traced them from Manchester. They 
are most dangerous characters, and it will be the duty of 
every Repealer, whether he knows or by any means can dis- 
cover one of them, immediately to hand him over to justice 

20 and the law. The Ribbonmen only by their proceedings 

' can injure the great and religious cause in which I am now 
engaged, and in which I have the people of Ireland at my 
back. 

This is a holy festival in the Catholic Church — the day 

125 upon which the Mother of our Saviour ascended to meet her 
Son, and reign with Him for ever. On such a day I will 
not tell a falsehood. I hope I am under her protection 

\ v/hile addressing you, and I hope that Ireland will receive 
the benefit of her prayers. Our Church has prayed against 

:3o Espartero and his priest-terrorising, church-plundering marau- 
ders, and he has since fallen from power — nobody knows 
how, for he makes no effort to retain it. He seems to 
have been bewildered by the Divine curse, for without one 
rational effort the tyrant of Spain has faded before the 

J5 prayers of Christianity. I hope that there is a blessing in 

I this day, and, fully aware of its solemnity, I assure you that 



396 Political Addresses. 

I am afraid of nothing but Ribbonism, which alone can 
disturb the present movement. I have proclaimed from this 
spot that the Act of Union is a nullity, but in seeking for 
Repeal I do not want you to disobey the law. I have only 
to refer to the words of the Tories' friend, Saurin, to prove 5 
that the Union is illegal. I advise you to obey the law 
until you have the word of your beloved Queen to tell you 
that you shall have a Parliament of your own. {Cheers, and 
loud cries of '^ So we will ! ") The Queen — God bless her ! 
— will yet tell you that you shall have a legislature of your 10 
own — three cheers for the Queen I (^Immense cheering^ 

On the 2d of January last I called this the Repeal year, 
and I was laughed at for doing so. Are they laughing now ? 
No ; it is now my turn to laugh ; and I will now say that 
in twelve months more we will have our Parliament again 
on College Green. The Queen has the undoubted preroga- 
tive at any time to order her Ministers to issue writs, which, 
being signed by the Lord Chancellor, the Irish Parliament 
would at once be convened without the necessity of applying 
to the English Legislature to repeal what they appear to 20 
consider a valid Act of Union. And if dirty Sugden would 
not sign the writ, an Irish Chancellor would soon be found 
who would do so. And if we have our Parliament again in 
Dublin, is there, I would ask, a coward amongst you who 
would not rather die than allow it to be taken away by an 25 
Act of Union ? (^Loud cries of " No one would ever submit 
to it ! " ''We'd rather die ! " etc.) To the last man ? 
{Cries of^^ To the last man ! ") Let every man who would 
not allow the Act of Union to pass hold up his hand. {An 
imme7ise forest of hands was shown?) When the Irish Parlia- 30 
ment is again assembled, I will defy any power on earth to 
take it from us again. Are you all ready to obey me in the 
course of conduct which I have pointed out to you .? {Cries 
^"Yes, yesl") When I dismiss you to-day, will you not 
disperse and go peaceably to your homes — (" Yes, yes, we Zl 
will ! ") — every man, woman, and child ? — in the same 



Daniel O'Connell. 397 

tranquil manner as you have assembled ? (" Yes, yes 1 ") 
But if I want you again to-morrow, will you not come to Tara 
Hill ? (" Yes, yes ! ") Remember, I will lead you into no 
peril. If danger should arise, it will be in consequence of 
5 some persons attacking us, for we are determined not to 
attack any person ; and if danger does exist, you will not 
find me in the rear rank. When we get our Parliament, all 
our grievances will be put an end to; our trade will be 
restored, the landlord will be placed on a firm footing, and 

10 the tenants who are now so sadly oppressed will be placed 
in their proper position. "Law, Peace, and Order" is the 
motto of the Repeal banner, and I trust you will all rally 
round it. {Cries ^ " We are all Repealers!") I have to 
inform you that all the magistrates who have recently been 

15 deprived of the Commission of the Peace have been ap- 
pointed by the Repeal Association to settle any disputes 
which may arise amxongst the Repealers in their respective 
localities. On next Monday persons will be appointed to 
settle disputes without expense, and I call on every man who 

20 is the friend of Ireland to have his disputes settled by arbi- 
trators without expense, and to avoid going to the Petty 
Sessions. 

I believe I am now in a position to announce to you that 
in twelve months more we will not be without having an 

25 Hurrah ! for the Parliament on College Green. {Immense 
cheering^ Your shouts are almost enough to call to life 
those who rest in the grave. I can almost fancy the spirits 
of the mighty dead hovering over you, and the ancient 
kings and chiefs of Ireland, from the clouds, listening to the 

30 shouts sent up from Tara for Irish liberty. Oh ! Ireland is 
a lovely land, blessed with the bounteous gifts of Nature, and 
where is the coward who would not die for her ? {Cries of 
" Not one ! ") Your cheers will penetrate to the extremity 
of civilisation. Our movement is the admiration of the 

35 world, for no other country can show so much force with so 
much propriety of conduct. No other country can show a 



398 



Political Addresses. 



people assembled for the highest national purposes that can 
actuate man ; can show hundreds of thousands able in 
strength to carry any battle that ever was fought, and yet 
separating with the tranquillity of schoolboys. You have 
stood by me long — stand by me a little longer, and Ireland 
will be again a nation. 



II. 

W. E. RUSSELL. 

Address at the Democratic National Convention. 

Chicago, July g, i8g6. 

['* Governor Russell was extremely fortunate in the time of his politi- 
cal activity. [He was mayor of Cambridge, Mass., 1885-1888, unsuccess- 
ful candidate for governor of Massachusetts, 1888-89, ^^"^ governor, 10 
1890-92.] The Democratic party had had a revival, and a revival un- 
der its best form. Under the leadership of Cleveland it promised the 
country an administration the object of which should be, not the advan- 
tage of partisans, or of certain classes, but of the Nation. Russell was 
believed to be a man of the same stamp as Cleveland, whose personal 
friend he became. ... 15 

In the spring of 1896 Mr. Russell declined to be a delegate to the 
Democratic National Convention at Chicago, and refused to be thought 
of as a candidate for the Presidency. Later he decided to attend the 
Convention, hoping to be able to exert some influence. It was probably 
the most painful experience of his life. He had been a Democrat from 20 
his childhood up. His father held an honorable place in the party as 
well as in civic life, and from him young Russell learned the lesson of 
party loyalty, and doubtless learned to honor the party in him. He was 
a partisan, but he loved his party as no mere partisan could do. He 
saw it assuming the position in which the best hopes of the country 25 
could be placed upon it. His patriotism and his partisanship became 
one. He went to Chicago to find his dearest hopes disappointed. The 
politicians who had unwillingly followed the lead of Cleveland till they 
secured power, turned against him in Congress, and thwarted his most 
cherished plans. Now, in the Convention at Chicago, they were wild 30 
with joy because they could cast him off forever, Russell found the 



W. E. Russell. 399 

party that had been his hope and his pride stooping to alliance with the 
most extravagant elements of American politics, and for the sake of suc- 
cess adopting the most perilous financial heresy — [ free coinage of silver]. 

He strove vainly, [in the discussion of the report of the committee 
5 to draft a platform] to check the disastrous plunge of his party into 
disgrace and ultimate failure. . . . 

The Convention listened but swept on in its mad career. He 
wrote to his wife : — 'I had no idea how hard and distasteful this task 
would be. I have but one comfort in it, I know that I have done my 
lo duty with fidelity.' " Memoir of W. E. Russell, C. C. Everett, Publica- 
tions of Colonial Society of Massachusetts, V, pp. 89-92.] 

Mr. Chairman and Members of this Convention: I 
have but one word to say. The time is short for debate 
upon the merits of this issue. I am conscious, painfully con- 

15 scious, that the mind of this Convention is not and has not 
been open to argument and reason. ( Applause and cries of 
''That's right!") 

I know that the will of its great majority, which sees fit 
to override precedent, to trample down rights, to attack the 

20 sovereignty of States, is to be rigidly enforced. I know that 
an appeal will fall upon deaf ears. There is but one thing 
left to us, and that the voice of protest, and that voice I 
raise, not in bitterness, not questioning the sincerity, the 
honesty, of any Democrat ; that voice I utter with a feeling of 

25 sorrow, and, mark me, my friends, the country, our country, 
if not this Convention, will listen to our protest. ( Applause 
and cheers.) I speak for one of the smallest States of 
this Union, not great in territory or population, not prominent 
in her material resources, but glorious in her history, great in 

30 her character, in her loyalty to truth, in her devotion to prin- 
ciple and duty and the sacrifices she has wilHngly made for 
independence, liberty and her country. ( Great applause and 
cheering.) That State has taught us, her children, to place 
principle above expediency, courage above time, and patriot- 

35 ism above party, — ( Applause). And in the cause of justice 
and of right, not to flinch, no matter how great the majority 
or how overbearing may be its demands. 



400 Political Addresses. 

I speak, and I have a right to speak, for the Democracy 
of my Commonwealth. (Applause.) I have seen it for a 
generation in darkness and defeat, following steadfastly the 
old principles of an abiding faith. I felt it when it was re- 
jected and proscribed. It mattered not to us. We knew 5 
that its principles would triumph, and we lived to see the 
day when we planted the banner of Democracy for three suc- 
cessive years victorious in that stronghold of Republicanism 
and protection. ( Applause.) 

These victories were for the great principles of a national 10 
party. They were her protest against sectionalism, and 
against fraternal government,, which, either by force or by 
favor, should seek to dominate a dependent people. This 
was then the democracy of South Carolina and of Illinois, 
and bound us together from ocean to ocean. (Applause.) 15 

We did not think that we should live to see the time when 
these great Democratic principles which have triumphed 
over Republicanism should be forgotten in a Convention and 
we should be invited under new and radical leadership to a 
new and radical policy ; that we should be asked to give up 20 
vital principles for which we have labored and suffered ; re- 
pudiate Democratic platforms and administrations, and at the 
demands of a section urging expediency, be asked to adopt 
a policy which many of us believe invites peril to our coun- m 
try and disaster to our party. ( Applause.) 25 

In the debates of this Convention I have heard one false 
note from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. I answer 
it, not in anger, but in sorrow, and I appeal to you, my asso- 
ciates of the Massachusetts delegation, do I not speak the 
true sentiment of my State (cries of *' Yes" in the Massa- 30 
chusetts delegation), and answer for our party, when I declare 
that they and we utter our earnest, emphatic and unflinching 
protest against this Democratic platform ? I have heard from 
the lips of some of the old leaders of our party, at whose feet 
we younger men have loved to learn its principles, that the 
new decline was the bright dawn of a better day. I would to 



Alexander H. Stephens. 401 

God that I could believe it ! I have heard that Democracy- 
was being tied to a star, not the lone star, my Texan friends, 
that we gladly would welcome, but to the falling star, which 
flashes for an instant and then goes out in the darkness of 
5 the night, ( Applause.) 

No, my friends, we see not the dawn, but the darkness of 
defeat and disaster. Oh, that from this great majority, with 
its power, there might come the only word of concession and 
conciliation ! Oh, that from you there might be held out the 

10 olive branch of peace, under which all Democrats united 
could rally to a great victory! 

Mr. Chairman, I have finished my work of protest. Let 
me, following the example of the Senator from South Caro- 
lina, utter the word of prophecy. When this storm has sub- 

15 sided, when the dark clouds of passion, of prejudice, have 
rolled away, and there comes after the turmoil of this Con- 
vention the sober second thought of Democrats and of our 
people, then the protests we of the minority here make will 
be hailed as the ark of the covenant faith when all Demo- 

20 crats united may go to fight for the old principles and carry 
them to triumphant victory. 



III. 

ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS. 

Secession. 

Delivered at the Georgia State Convention. 
Jajtiiary^ 1861. 

[" The convention assembled on the i6th of January. The number of 
members was two hundred and ninety-five. On the i8th, a resolution 
was passed, by a vote of one hundred and sixty-five ayes to one hundred 
25 and thirty noes, declaring it to be the right and the duty of the State to 
withdraw from the Union. On the same day they appointed a com- 
mittee to draft an Ordinance of Secession. It was reported almost 



402 Political Addresses. 

immediately and in a single paragraph declared the repeal and abrogation 
of all laws which bound the Commonwealth to the Union, and that the 
State of Georgia was ' in full possession and exercise of all those rights 
of sovereignity which belong and appertain to a free and independent 
State.' The debate on the ordinance elicited many w^arm expressions 5 
of Union sentiments and it was on this occasion that Alexander H. 
Stephens made the [following] speech. Robert Toombs and his party 
were, [however,] strong enough to give to the ordinance, when it came up 
for a final vote, two hundred and eight ballots against eighty-nine. 
Civil War in America, B. J. Lossing, Vol. I, p. 178.] 10 

Mr. President; This step of secession, once taken, can 
never be recalled ; and all the baleful and withering con- 
sequences that must follow, will rest on the convention for all 
coming time. When we and our posterity shall see our lovely 
South desolated by the demon of war, which this act of yours 15 
will inevitably invite and call forth ; when our green fields of 
waving harvest shall be trodden down by the murderous 
soldiery and fiery car of war sweeping over our land ; our 
temples of justice laid in ashes ; all the horrors and desolation 
of war upon us ; who but this Convention will be held re- 20 
sponsible for it ? And who but him who shall have given his 
vote for this unwise and ill-timed measure, as I honestly think 
and believe, shall be held to strict account for this suicidal 
act by the present generation, and probably cursed and ex- 
ecrated by posterity for all coming time, for the wide and 25 
desolating ruin that will inevitably follow this act you now 
propose to perpetrate ? Pause, I entreat you, and consider 
for a moment what reasons you can give, that will even satisfy 
yourselves in calmer moments — what reason you can give to 
your fellow-sufferers in the calamity that it will bring upon 30 
us. What reasons can you give to the nations of the earth to 
justify it ? They will be the calm and deliberate judges in 
the case ; and what cause or one overt act can you name or 
point, on which to rest the plea of justification ? What right 
has the North assailed ? What interest of the South has been 35 
invaded ? What justice has been denied ? And what claim 
founded in justice and right has been withheld ? Can either 



Alexander H. Stephens. 403 

of you to-day name one governmental act of wrong, deliber- 
ately and purposely done by the government of Washington, 
of which the South has a right to complain ? I challenge the 
answer. While, on the other hand, let me show the facts 

5 (and believe me, gentlemen, I am not here the advocate of 
the North ; but I am here the friend, the firm friend, and lover 
of the South, and her institutions, and for this reason I speak 
thus plainly and faithfully for yours, mine, and every other 
man's interest, the words of truth and soberness), of which I 

TO wish you to judge, and I will only state facts which are clear 
and undeniable, and which now stand as records authentic in 
the history of our country. When we of the South demanded 
the slave-trade, or the importation of Africans for the culti- 
vation of our lands, did they not yield the right for twenty 

15 years ? When we asked a three-fifths representation in Con- 
gress for our slaves, was it not granted ? When we asked and 
demanded the return of any fugitive from justice, or the re- 
covery of those persons owing labor or allegiance, was it not 
incorporated in the Constitution, and again ratified and 

20 strengthened by the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850? But do 
you reply that in many instances they have violated this com- 
pact, and have not been faithful to their engagements ? As 
individual and local communities, they may have done so ; 
but not by the sanction of government ; for that has always 

25 been true to Southern interests. Again, gentlemen, look at 
another act ; when we have asked that more territory should 
be added, that we might spread the institution of slavery, have 
they not yielded to our demands in giving us Louisiana, 
Florida, and Texas, out of which four States have been 

30 carved, and ample territory for four more to be added in due 
time, if you, by this unwise and impolitic act, do not destroy 
this hope, and, perhaps, by it lose all, and have your last 
slave wrenched from you by stern military rule, as South 
America and Mexico were ; or by the vindictive decree of a 

35 universal emancipation which may reasonably be expected to 
follow. 



404 Political Addresses. 

But, again, gentlemen, what have we to gain by this pro- 
posed change of our relation to the general government? 
We have always had the control of it, and can yet, if we re- 
main in it, and are as united as we have been. We have had 
a majority of the Presidents chosen from the South, as well ^ 
as the control and management of most of those chosen from 
the North. We have had sixty years of Southern Presidents 
to their twenty-four, thus controlling the executive depart- 
ment. So of the judges of the Supreme Court, we have had 
eighteen from the South and but eleven from the North; 10 
although nearly four-fifths of the judicial business has arisen 
in the free states, yet a majority of the Court has always been 
from the South. This we have required so as to guard 
against any interpretation of the Constitution unfavorable to 
us. In like manner we have been equally watchful to guard 15 
our interests in the legislative branch of government. In choos- 
ing the presiding presidents (pro tem.) of the Senate, we have 
had twenty-four to their eleven. Speakers of the House we 
have had twenty-three, and they twelve. While the majority 
of the representatives, from their greater population, have 20 
always been from the North, yet we have so generally se- 
cured the Speaker,, because he, to a great extent, shapes 
and controls the legislation of the country. Nor have we 
had less control in every other department of the general 
government. Attorney-generals we have had fourteen, while 25 
the North have had but five. Foreign ministers we have had 
eighty-six and they but fifty-four. While three-fourths of the 
business which demands diplomatic agents abroad is clearly 
from the free states, from their greater commercial interest, 
yet we have had the principal embassies, so as to secure the 30 
world-markets for our cotton, tobacco, and sugar on the best 
possible terms. We have had a vast majority of the higher 
offices of both army and navy, while a larger proportion of 
the soldiers and sailors were drawn from the North. Equally 
so of clerks, auditors, and comptrollers filling the executive 35 
department ; the records show, for the last fifty years, that of 



Alexander H. Stephens. 405 

the three thousand thus employed, we have had more than 
two-thirds of the same, while we have but one-third of the 
white population of the Republic. 

Again, look at another item, and one, be assured, in which 
r we have a great and vital interest ; it is that of revenue, or 
means of supporting government. From official documents, 
we learn that a fraction over three-fourths of the revenue col- 
lected for the support of the government has uniformly been 
raised from the North. 

10 Pause now while you can, gentlemen, and contemplate 
carefully and candidly these important items. Look at an- 
other necessary branch of government, and learn from stern 
statistical facts how matters stand in that department. I 
mean the mail and post-office privileges that we now enjoy 

15 under the general government as it has been for years past. 
The expense for the transportation of the mail in the free 
States was, by the report of the postmaster-general for the 
year i860, a little over $13,000,000, while the income was 
$19,000,000. But in the slave-states the transportation of 

20 the mail was $14,716,000, while the revenue from the same 
was $8,001,026, leaving a deficit of $6,704,974, to be sup- 
pUed by the North, for our accommodation, and without it, 
we must have been entirely cut off from this most essential 
branch of government. 

25 Leaving out of view, for the present, the countless mil- 
lions of dollars you must expend in a war with the North ; 
with tens of thousands of your sons and brothers slain in 
battle, and offered up as sacrifices upon the altar of your 
ambition — and for what, we ask again ? Is it for the over- 

30 throw of the American government, established by our com- 
mon ancestry, cemented and built up by their sweat and 
blood, and founded on the broad principles of right, justice 
and humanity ? And as such, I must declare here, as I 
have often done before, and which has been repeated by the 

35 greatest and wisest of statesmen and patriots, in this and 
other lands, that it is the best and freest government — the 



4o6 Political Addresses. 

most equal in its rights, the most just in its decisions, the 
most lenient in its measures, and the most aspiring in its 
principles, to elevate the race of men, that the sun of heaven 
ever shone upon. Now, for you to attempt to overthrow 
such a government as this, under which we have lived for 5 
more than three-quarters of a century — in which we have 
gained our wealth, our standing as a nation, our domestic 
safety, while the elements of peril are around us, with peace 
and tranquillity accompanied with unbounded prosperity and 
rights unassailed — is the height of madness, folly, and 10 
wickedness, to which I neither lend my sanction nor my 
vote. 



IV. 

E. MAZZINI. 

To the Young Men of Italy. 

Delivered at Milan, July 25, 1848, at the request of the National Asso- 
ciation, on the occasion of a solemn commemoration of the anniversary 
of the death of the brothers Bandiera and their fellow- martyrs. 

[" Giuseppe Mazzini, lawyer, patriot, and revolutionist, was born at 
Genoa in 1805. In 1830 he was arrested by the authorities of Pied- 
mont for conspiring against the government, but after an imprisonment 1 5 
of six months was released for want of sufficient evidence to procure a 
conviction. He thereupon left Italy and resided successively in Mar- 
seilles, Paris, and London, whence he conducted agitations for the lib- 
eration of Italy. He founded about 1832 the secret revolutionary 
society of * Young Italy,' whose object was the unification of Italy 20 
under a republican government. He returned to Italy at the outbreak 
of the revolutionary movements of 1848, and in 1849 became a member 
of the triumvirate in the short-lived republic at Rome, being again driven 
into exile on the restoration of the papal government (1849). ^^ 
played a subordinate part in the movement which resulted in the unifica- 25 
tion of Italy under Victor Emmanuel in 1861, and, unwilling to take the 
oath of allegiance to a monarchy, remained abroad. He died in 1872." 
Century Dictionary. 



E. Mazzini. 407 

Attilio and Emilio Bandiera, born at Venice in 1811 and 181 9, were 
officers in the Austrian navy. They were, however, ardent patriots, and 
shared the longing of the party of ' Young Italy ' to see Italy united, 
and free of foreign yoke, especially that of Austria. They made numer- 
5 ous converts among the Italian crews in the fleet, and entered into cor- 
respondence with Mazzini. They planned to take possession of a frigate 
in order to make a descent on Sicily, but, denounced to the Austrians, 
they were obliged to flee. Meeting again in Corfu, they learned of 
the vain attempts of the Calabrians to rise, and resolved to hasten to 

10 them in order to reanimate the insurrection. The chiefs of the revolu- 
tionary committees and even Mazzini dissuaded in vain. Like patriots 
of antiquity, the brothers deemed it necessary that they should be a 
great sacrifice in order that the masses should be roused from their tor- 
por. On June twelfth, 1844, they set out in a barge with seventeen 

15 companions. On the sixteenth they landed near Crotone, knelt on the 
Italian soil, and kissing it, cried : ' You gave us life, and we will give it 
you.' Led by a Calabrian, they threw themselves into the woods, and 
on the eighteenth arrived in the neighborhood of San Giovanni in 
Fiore. Betrayed by one of their number, a Corsican spy, they were un- 

20 successfully attacked by seventeen of the urban guard. On the nine- 
teenth, when attacked by a battalion of chasseurs and a number 
of the militia, they were overcome after heroic resistance. All were 
condemned to death, though only nine were executed. On the twenty- 
fifth, the brothers, with seven companions, passed through weeping 

25 crowds in the streets of Cosenza, singing : ' He who dies for his coun- 
try, has lived well.' When the band arrived at the place of punishment, 
they embraced, exhorted the weeping soldiery, themselves gave the 
order to fire, and fell crying ; ' Long live Italy 1 ' The sacrifice of the 
brothers and their friends made a profound impression throughout 

30 Europe, and from the moment of their death the direction of the 
national movement changed from the powerless initiative of secret 
societies to that of a roused public opinion. La . Grande Encyclo- 
pedie.l 

When I was commissioned by you, young men, to proffer 
35 in this temple a few words sacred to the memory of the 
brothers Bandiera and their fellow-martyrs at Cosenza, I 
thought that some of those who heard me might exclaim 
with noble indignation : " Wherefore lament over the dead ? 
The martyrs of liberty are only worthily honored by winning 
40 the battle they have begun ; Cosenza, the land where they 
fell, is enslaved ; Venice, the city of their birth, is begirt by 



4o8 Political Addresses. 

foreign foes. Let us emancipate them, and until that moment 
let no words pass our lips save words of war." 

But another thought arose : " Why have we not conquered ? 
Why is it that, while we are fighting for independence in the 
north of Italy, liberty is perishing in the south ? Why is it 
that a war, which should have sprung to the Alps with the 
bound of a lion, has dragged itself along for four months, 
with the slow uncertain motion of the scorpion surrounded 
by a circle of fire ? How has the rapid and powerful intu- 
ition of a people newly arisen to life been converted into the lo 
weary, helpless effort of the sick man turning from side to 
side ? Ah 1 had we all arisen in the sanctity of the idea for 
which our martyrs died ; had the holy standard of their 
faith preceded our youth to battle; had we reached that 
unity of life which was in them so powerful, and made of our 1 1 
every action a thought, and of our every thought an action ; 
had we devoutly gathered up their last words in our hearts, M 
and learned from them that liberty and independence are V 
one ; that God and the people, the fatherland and humanity, 
are the two inseparable terms of the device of every people 20 
striving to become a nation ; that Italy can have no true life 
till she be one, holy in the equality and love of all her chil- 
dren, great in the worship of eternal truth, and consecrated 
to a lofty mission, a moral priesthood among the peoples of 
Europe — we should now have had, not war, but victory; 25 
Cosenza would not be compelled to venerate the memory of 
her martyrs in secret, nor Venice be restrained from honoring 
them with a monument; and we, gathered here together, 
might gladly invoke their sacred names, without uncertainty 
as to our future destiny, or a cloud of sadness on our brows, 30 
and say to those precursor souls : " Rejoice ! for your spirit 
is incarnate in your brethren, and they are worthy of 
you." 

The idea which they worshipped, young men, does not as 
yet shine forth in its full purity and integrity upon your ban- 35 
ner. The sublime program which they, dying, bequeathed 



E. Mazzini. 409 

to the rising Italian generation, is yours ; but mutilated, 
broken up into fragments by the false doctrines, which, else- 
where overthrown, have taken refuge amongst us. I look 
around, and I see the struggles of desperate populations, an 

5 alternation of generous rage and of unworthy repose ; of 
shouts for freedom and of formulae of servitude, throughout 
all parts of our peninsula ; but the soul of the country, where 
is it ? What unity is there in this unequal and manifold 
movement — where is the word that should dominate the 

10 hundred diverse and opposing counsels which mislead or 
seduce the multitude ? I hear phrases usurping the national 
omnipotence — "the Italy of the north — the league of the 
states — federative compacts between princes," — but Italy, 
where is it ? Where is the common country, the country 

15 which the Bandiera hailed as thrice initiatrix of a new era 
of European civilization ? 

Intoxicated with our first victories, improvident for the 
future, we forgot the idea revealed by God to those who 
suffered ; and God has punished our forgetfulness by defer- 

20 ring our triumph. The Italian movement, my countrymen, 
is, by decree of Providence, that of Europe. We arise to 
give a pledge of moral progress to the European world. But 
neither political fictions, nor dynastic aggrandizements, nor 
theories of expediency, can transform or renovate the life of 

25 the peoples. Humanity lives and moves through faith ; 
great principles are the guiding stars that lead Europe 
towards the future. Let us turn to the graves of our martyrs, 
and ask inspiration of those who died for us all, and we 
shall find the secret of victory in the adoration of a faith. 

30 The angel of martyrdom and the angel of victory are 
brothers ; but the one looks up to heaven, and the other 
looks down to earth ; and it is when, from epoch to epoch, 
their glances meet between earth and heaven, that creation 
is embellished with a new life, and a people arises from the 

35 cradle or the tomb, evangelist or prophet. 

I will sum up for you in a few words this faith of our 



I 



410 Political Addresses. 

martyrs ; their external life is known to you all ; it is now a 
matter of history, and I need not recall it to you. 

The faith of the brothers Bandiera, which was and is our 
own, was based upon a few simple uncontrovertible truths, 
which few, indeed, venture to declare false, but which are 
nevertheless forgotten or betrayed by most : — 

God and the people. 

God at the summit of the social edifice ; the people, the 
universality of our brethren, at the base. God, the Father and 
Educator ; the people, the progressive interpreter of His law. 10 

No true society can exist without a common belief and a ^ 
common aim. Religion declares the belief and the aim. ■ 
Politics regulate society in the practical realization of that 
belief, and prepare the means of attaining that aim. Religion 
represents the principle, politics the application. There is 15 
but one sun in heaven for all the earth. It is alike the law 
of the human being and of collective humanity. We are 
placed here below, not for the capricious exercise of our own 
individual faculties, — our faculties and liberty are the means, 
not the end, — not to work out our own happiness upon earth ; 20 
happiness can only be reached elsewhere, and there God 
works for us ; but to consecrate our existence to the discov- 
ery of a portion of the Divine law ; to practice it as far as 
our individual circumstances and powers allow, and to diffuse 
the knowledge and love of it among our brethren. 25 

We are here below to labor fraternally to build up the unity 
of the human family, so that the day may come when it shall 
represent a single sheepfold with a single shepherd, — the 
spirit of God, the Law. 

To aid our search after truth, God has given to us tradition 30 
and the voice of our own conscience. Wherever they are 
opposed, is error. To attain harmony and consistence 
between the conscience of the individual and the conscience 
of humanity, no sacrifice is too great. The family, the city, 
the fatherland, and humanity, are but different spheres in 35 
which to exercise our activity and our power of sacrifice 



E. Mazzini. 4 1 1 

towards this great aim. God watches from above the inevit- 
able progress of humanity, and from time to time he raises 
up the great in genius, in love, in thought, or in action, as 
priests of his truth, and guides to the multitudes on their way. 
5 These principles, — indicated in their letters, in their 
proclamations, and in their conversation, — with a profound 
sense of the mission intrusted by God to the individual and 
to humanity, were to Attilio and Emilio Bandiera and their 
fellow-martyrs the guide and comfort of a weary life ; and, 

10 when men and circumstances had alike betrayed them, these 
principles sustained them in death, in religious serenity and 
calm certainty of the realization of their immortal hopes for 
the future of Italy. The immense energy of their souls arose 
from the intense love which informed their faith. And could 

15 they now arise from the grave and speak to you, they would, 
believe me, address you, though with a power very different 
from that which is given to me, in counsel not unlike this 
which I now offer to you. 

Love I love is the flight of the soul towards God ; towards 

20 the great, the sublime, and the beautiful, which are the 
shadow of God upon earth. Love your family, the partner of 
your life, those around you ready to share your joys and sor- 
rows ; love the dead who were dear to you and to whom you 
were dear. But let your love be the love taught you by 

25 Dante and by us — the love of souls that aspire together; 
do not grovel on the earth in search of a felicity which it is 
not the destiny of the creature to reach here below ; do not 
yield to a delusion which inevitably would degrade you into 
egotism. To love is to give and take a promise for the future. 
'30 God has given us love, that the weary soul may give and 
receive support upon the way of life. It is a flower springing 
up on the path of duty ; but it cannot change its course. 
Purify, strengthen, and improve yourselves by loving. Act 
always — even at the price of increasing her earthly trials — 

35 so that the sister soul united to your own may never need, 
here or elsewhere, to blush through you or for you. The 



412 Political Addresses. 

time will come when, from the height of a new life, embrac- 
ing the whole past and comprehending its secret, you will 
smile together at the sorrows you have endured, the trials you 
have overcome. 

Love your country. Your country is the land where your 
parents sleep, where is spoken that language in which the 
chosen of your heart, blushing, whispered the first word of 
love ; it is the home that God has given you, that by striving 
to perfect yourselves therein, you may prepare to ascend to 
Him. It is your name, your glory, your sign among the people. 
Give to it your thought, your counsels, your blood. Raise it 
up, great and beautiful as it was foretold by our great men, 
and see that you leave it uncontaminated by any trace of 
falsehood or of servitude; unprofaned by dismemberment. 
Let it be one, as the thought of God. You are twenty-five 
millions of men, endowed with active, splendid faculties ; pos- 
sessing a tradition of glory the envy of the nations of Europe. 
An immense future is before you ; you lift your eyes to the 
loveliest heaven, and around you smiles the loveliest land in 
Europe ; you are encircled by the Alps and the sea, bound- 20 
aries traced out by the finger of God for a people of giants 
— you are bound to be such or nothing. Let not a man of 
that twenty-five millions remain excluded from the fraternal 
bond destined to join you together ; let not a glance be raised 
to that heaven which is not the glance of a free man. Let 25 
Rome be the ark of your redemption, the temple of your 
nation. Has she not twice been the temple of the destinies of 
Europe ? In Rome two extinct worlds, the Pagan and the 
Papal, are superposed like the double jewels of a diadem ; 
draw from these a third world greater than the two. From 30 
Rome, the holy city, the city of love {amor), the purest and 
wisest among you, elected by the vote and fortified by the 
inspiration of a whole people, shall dictate the pact that shall 
make us one, and represent us in the future alliance of the 
peoples. Until then you will either have no country or have 35 1 
her contaminated or profaned. 



E. Mazzini. 413 

Love humanity. You can only ascertain your own mission 
from the aim set by God before humanity at large. God has 
given you your country as cradle, and humanity as mother ; 
you cannot rightly love your brethren of the cradle if you love 

; not the common mother. Beyond the Alps, beyond the sea, 
are other peoples now fighting or preparing to fight the holy 
fight of independence, of nationality, of liberty ; other peoples 
striving by different routes to reach the same goal — improve- 
ment, association, and the foundation of an authority which 

I shall put an end to moral anarchy and re-link earth to heaven ; 
an authority which mankind may love and obey without 
remorse or shame. Unite with them ; they will unite with 
you. Do not invoke their aid where your single arm will 
suffice to conquer ; but say to them that the hour will shortly 

, sound for a terrible struggle between right and blind force, 
and that in that hour you will ever be found with those who 
have raised the same banner as yourselves. 

And love, young men, love and venerate the ideal. The 
ideal is the word of God. High above every country, high 

I above humanity, is the country of the spirit, the city of the 
soul, in which all are brethren who believe in the inviola- 
bility of thought and in the dignity of our immortal soul ; 
and the baptism of this fraternity is martyrdom. From that 
high sphere spring the principles which alone can redeem the 

; peoples. Arise for the sake of these, and not from the im- 
patience of suffering or dread of evil. Anger, pride, ambi- 
tion, and the desire of material prosperity are arms common 
alike to the peoples and their oppressors, and even should 
you conquer with these to-day, you would fall again to- 
J30 morrow; but principles belong to the peoples alone, and 
their oppressors can find no arms to oppose them. Adore 
enthusiasm, the dreams of the virgin soul, and the visions of 
early youth, for they are a perfume of paradise which the 
soul retains in issuing from the hands of its Creator. Re- 
35 spect above all things your conscience ; have upon your 
lips the truth implanted by God in your hearts, and, while 



414 



Political Addresses. 



laboring in harmony, even with those who differ from you, in 
all that tends to the emancipation of our soil, yet ever bear 
your own banner erect and boldly promulgate your own faith. 

Such words, young men, would the martyrs of Cosenza 
have spoken, had they been living amongst you ; and here, 
where it may be that, invoked by our love, their holy spirits 
hover near us, I call upon you to gather them up in your hearts 
and to make of them a treasure amid the storms that yet 
threaten you ; storms which, with the name of our martyrs 
on your lips and their faith in your hearts, you will overcome. lo 

God be with you, and bless Italy ! 



AFTER DINNER SPEECHES. 



All four speeches illustrate the chief desideratum in after-dinner 
speaking, — brevity. They show, too, that brevity does not preclude 
so mingling grave and gay that an audience is led to think of funda- 
mental questions in education ; does not preclude strong emotional 
effect, phrasing for the first time ideas which become the beliefs of the 
next generation, or even facing a grave political crisis so skilfully that 
the speech in large part prepares the solution of it. 



I. 

RACHEL K. FITZ. 
A Five Minute Address. 

At a Luncheon of the Class of '94, Radcliffe College, Cambridge, 
June 28^ igoo. 

I HAVE been asked to discuss " Radcliffe as a Matrimonial 
Training School." Now, as you doubtless know, matrimony 
is the one subject of which every college girl is popularly 
supposed to be shy, because either she wants to get married 
5 and is afraid that she won't, or she doesn't want to get mar- 
ried and is afraid that she will ! To lessen the fears of the 
girl who is afraid that she won't, we are urged to compile 
elaborate statistics to prove the college woman distinctly 
marriageable, but in the meantime she looks at the meagre 

10 list of married names in our college catalogue and her fears 
are strengthened. The girl who is afraid that she will, 
looks at the same list and her fears are not diminished. She 
thinks of all the might-have-beens which weren't because the 
college girl wouldn't ! And they tell her that Radcliffe is a 

15 matrimonial training school. 

But for us the question is. Is Radcliffe a successful train- 
ing school ? Does she not only make a woman distinctly 
eligible to this highest of all positions, but does she enable 
her to fill it, honestly, ideally to fill it ? 

20 I wish, I cannot tell you how earnestly, that I could say 
yes unqualifiedly, because to me this, and not co-education or 
Ph.D.'s, or woman's exact intellectual relation to man, is the 
vital issue in college economics. In the five minutes at my 
disposal I cannot hope to tell you why this is for me, and I 

417 



41 8 After Dinner Speeches. 

believe should be for all, the vital issue ; I cannot hope to 
persuade you (if, indeed, you need persuasion) that married 
life is woman's ideal life. We who are married are like the 
philosophers who said that those in the dark might think 
that they were in the light, whereas those in the light knew 5 
that they were. 

If, then, you will grant me that married life is woman's 
truth, we may ask, In how far does Radcliffe prepare her for 
the revelation ; in how far does it fail to prepare her ? 

It prepares her in one way, grandly, in that it makes her 10 
the intellectual equal of man. She can think with him, work 
with him, aspire with him ; his thoughts are her thoughts, 
though spiced and enriched by her own individuality. In- 
tellectually their married life is a union with all the rare 
intuition of sympathy, the consummate helpfulness and 15 
strength which the word union rightly stands for. Do you 
remember how Socrates longed to die because then he could 
know the thoughts of the men he admired, could talk with 
them face to face, soul to soul ? It is that sort of knowledge 
of the thoughts of the man whom she supremely admires that 20 
Radcliffe fits its daughter for. It enables a wife to enter 
into the kingdom of her husband's mind and, by entering in, 
to possess and to enlarge it. 

In Socrates' heaven this would be enough, but for us it is 
only much. We are alive and life is practical. Does Rad- 25 
cliffe fit us for the practical side of married life ? Look over 
her list of courses and you will have the answer. There are 
Latin and Greek, Logic and Metaphysic, Anglo-Saxon and 
Gothic, Trigonometry and Analytic Geometry, and many 
others of a similar nature. They are all very good — but 30 
practical ? A married woman has the care of a household, 
and, as a supreme trust, of children ; and what is her prepara- 
tion ? You try to think of a possible relation between what 
she has learned and what she is now called upon to do, and 
at last you answer that as a result of her course of study she 35 
has a well trained mind, a well formed character. And, 



J 



Rachel K. Fitz. 419 

therefore, you would assume that she is prepared to manage 
a household though she knows nothing of the processes of 
nutrition, of the chemistry of food, of sanitation ? To care 
for children, though she is as ignorant as her babe of physi- 
5 ology and of hygiene ? The assumption is logically prepos- 
terous. Its general acceptance passes unchallenged because, 
forsooth, we are mothers by Divine Right ; because the 
vividness of what our child is in strength, endurance and 
character obscures the image of what he might have been ; 

10 because finally our sins of omission and commission have 
such large results that shrinking we place the burden upon 
a remote heredity. 

Some would make excuse for college women upon the 
ground that they fail no more critically than other women. 

15 We know that we demand the ideal of our college, and it is 
with that demand only that she herself will be satisfied. 
Until Radcliffe refuses to sanction the heresy that the home 
work of a woman is so trivial that under the guidance of 
ignorant tradition it may be learned by the doing, and 

20 accepts as a vital part of her mission the task of dignifying 
through science its daily routine ; until, acting upon her 
acknowledgment that strength of character and of mind are 
products of the method not of the subject matter of study, 
she teaches us with the rest that which our life work demands 

25 that we know ; until, in short, she prepares us for the practi- 
cal revelation of our married life, she has done but half her 
duty toward us. She has made us to run swiftly with the 
one foot, she has left us lame with the other. 

But this is not all ; she has made us think that we run 

30 swiftly with both feet ; she has made us even satisfied. And 
later when the needs come and we fail to meet them, we are 
only too apt to be dissatisfied with the needs and not with 
our failure. And then we make the dissatisfied wives and 
mothers who bring disrepute upon the college life for women 

35 in the eyes of the world, who deny before our younger 
sisters the truth of a woman's life. 



420 After Dinner Speeches. 

Shall we then turn and lay the blame upon our college ? 
The college is what we make it. Its ideals are our demands. 
If we demand only that it copy the man's college, teaching 
us what is good for him, nothing more, then we must not 
complain if the practical side of our woman's life is a failure, 
or at best successful only through a dearly bought experi- 
ence, as hard and as costly for those we love as for our- 
selves. 

Is it not then for us, as graduates of Radcliife, as wives 
and mothers, as women, to demand that Radcliffe shall be 
something more than a man's college, that she shall study 
the needs and purposes of those entrusted to her, ever 
remembering that man's work never is and never can be 
woman's work ? 



II. 
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON. 

Address at the Dinner of the Harvard Alumni.^ 

Cambridge, Mass., June 24, i8g6. 

[Harvard University conferred the degree of A. M. on Mr, Washing- 15 
ton at its Commencement, June 24, 1896. At the dinner of the Alumni, 
which takes place shortly after the completion of the exercises in 
Sanders Theatre, it is customary to call upon the recipients of the 
honorary degree to speak.] 

Mr. President and Gentlemen : It would in some 20 
measure relieve my embarrassment if I could, even in a 
slight degree, feel myself worthy of the great honor which you 
do me to-day. Why you have called me from the Black 

^ Reprinted, by permission, from Up from Slavery, Booker T. Wash- 
ington. Copyright 1901, by Doubleday, Page & Co. 



Booker T. Washington. 421 

Belt of the South, from among my humble people, to share 
in the honors of this occasion, is not for me to explain ; and 
yet it may not be inappropriate for me to suggest that it 
seems to me that one of the most vital questions that touches 
5 our American life, is how to bring the strong, wealthy and 
learned into helpful touch with the poorest, most ignorant, 
and humble, and at the same time, make the one appreciate 
the vitalizing, strengthening influence of the other. How 
shall we make the mansions on yon Beacon Street feel and 

10 see the need of the spirits in the lowliest cabin in Alabama 
cotton fields or Louisiana sugar bottoms ? This problem 
Harvard University is solving, not by bringing itself down, 
but by bringing the masses up. 

If through me, an humble representative, seven millions 

15 of my people in the South might be permitted to send a 
message to Harvard — Harvard that offered up on death's 
altar young Shaw, and Russell, and Lowell and scores of 
others, that we might have a free and united country, that 
message would be, " Tell them that the sacrifice was not in 

20 vain. Tell them that by the way of the shop, the field, the 
skilled hand, habits of thrift and economy, by way of indus- 
trial school and college, we are coming. We are crawling 
up, working up, yea, bursting up. Often through oppres- 
sion, unjust discrimination and prejudice, but through them 

25 all we are coming up, and with proper habits, intelligence 
and property, there is no power on earth that can perma- 
nently stay our progress." 

If my life in the past has meant anything in the lifting up 
of my people and the bringing about of better relations be- 

30 tween your race and mine, I assure you from this day it will 
mean doubly more. In the economy of God, there is but 
one standard by which an individual can succeed — there is 
but one for a race. This country demands that every race 
measure itself by the American standard. By it a race must 

35 rise or fall, succeed or fail, and in the last analysis mere 
sentiment counts for little. During the next half century 



422 After Dinner Speeches. 

and more, my race must continue passing through the 
severe American crucible. We are to be tested in our 
patience, our forbearance, our perseverance, our power to 
endure wrong, to withstand temptations, to economize, to ac- 
quire and use skill ; our ability to compete, to succeed in 5 
commerce, to disregard the superficial for the real, the ap- 
pearance for the substance, to be great and yet small, learned 
and yet simple, high and yet the servant of all. This, this 
is the passport to all that is best in the life of our Republic, 
and the Negro must possess it, or be debarred. 10 

While we are thus being tested, I beg of you to remember 
that wherever our life touches yours, we help or hinder. 
Wherever your life touches ours, you make us stronger or 
weaker. No member of your race in any part of our coun- 
try can harm the meanest member of mine, without the 15 
proudest and bluest blood in Massachusetts being degraded. 
When Mississippi commits crime. New England commits 
crime, and in so much, lowers the standard of your civiliza- 
tion. There is no escape — man drags man down, or man 
lifts man up. 20 

In working out our destiny, while the main burden and 
center of activity must be with us, we shall need, in a large 
measure in the years that are to come, as we have in the 
past, the help, the encouragement, the guidance that the 
strong can give the weak. Thus helped, we of both races in 25 
the South, soon shall throw off the shackles of racial and 
sectional prejudice and rise as Harvard University has risen 
and as we all should rise, above the clouds of ignorance, 
narrowness and selfishness, into that atmosphere, that pure 
sunshine, where it will be our highest ambition to serve 30 
MAN, our brother, regardless of race or previous condition. 



J. R. Lowell. 423 



III. 

J. R. LOWELL. 

Our Literature.^ 

Response to a toast at the banquet in New York, April 30, 1889, 
given in commemoration of the hundredth anniversary of Washington's 
inauguration. 

A needful frugality, benignant alike to both the partici- 
pants in human utterance, has limited the allowance of each 
speaker this evening to ten minutes. Cut in thicker slices, 
our little loaf of time would not suffice for all. This seems 
5 a meagre ration, but if we give to our life the Psalmist's 
measure of seventy years, and bear in mind the population 
of the globe, a little ciphering will show that no single man 
and brother is entitled even to so large a share of our atten- 
tion as this. Moreover, how few are the men in any gen- 

10 eration who could not deliver the message with which their 
good or evil genius has charged them in less than the sixth 
part of an hour. 

On an occasion like this, a speaker lies more than usually 
open to the temptation of seeking the acceptable rather than 

15 the judicial word. And yet it is inevitable that public 
anniversaries, like those of private persons, should suggest 
self-criticism as well as self-satisfaction. I shall not listen 
for such suggestions, though I may not altogether conceal 
that I am conscious of them. I am to speak for literature, 

20 and of our own as forming now a recognized part of it. 
This is not the place for critical balancing of what we have 
done or left undone in this field. An exaggerated estimate, 
and that indiscriminateness of praise which implies a fear 
to speak the truth, would be unworthy of myself or of you. 

^ Reprinted by permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. from LowelVs 
Frose Works, VI, p. 222. 



424 After Dinner Speeches. 

I might indeed read over a list of names now, alas, carven 
on headstones, since it would be invidious to speak of the 
living. But the list would be short, and I could call few 
of the names great as the impartial years measure greatness. 
I shall prefer to assume that American literature was not 5 
worth speaking for at all if it were not quite able to speak m 
for itself, as all others are expected to do. J 

I think this a commemoration in which it is peculiarly 
fitting that literature should take part. For we are celebra- 
ting to-day our true birthday as a nation, the day when our 10 
consciousness of wider interests and larger possibilities 
began. All that went before was birth-throes. The day 
also recalls us to a sense of something to which we are too 
indifferent. I mean that historic continuity, which, as a 
factor in moulding national individuality, is not only power- 15 
ful in itself, but cumulative in its operation. In one of these 
literature finds the soil, and in the other the climate, it 
needs. Without the stimulus of a national consciousness, 
no literature could have come into being; under the con- 
ditions in which we then were, none that was not parasitic 20 
and dependent. Without the continuity which slowly incor- 
porates that consciousness in the general life and thought, 
no literature could have acquired strength to detach itself 
and begin a life of its own. And here another thought 
suggested by the day comes to my mind. Since that pre- 25 
cious and persuasive quality, style, may be exemplified as 
truly in a life as in a work of art, may not the character of 
the great man whose memory decorates this and all our 
days, in its dignity, its strength, its calm of passion restrained, 
its inviolable reserves, furnish a lesson which our literature 30 
may study to great advantage ? And not our literature 
alone. 

Scarcely had we become a nation when the only part of 
the Old World whose language we understood began to 
ask in various tones of despondency where was our litera- 35 
ture. We could not improvise Virgils, or Miltons, though 



J. R. Lowell. 425 

we made an obliging effort to do it. Failing in this, we 
thought the question partly unfair and wholly disagreeable. 
And indeed it had never been put to several nations far 
older than we, and to which a vates sacer had been longer 

5 wanting. But, perhaps it was not altogether so ill-natured as 
it seemed, for, after all, a nation without a literature is imper- 
fectly represented in the parliament of mankind. It implied, 
therefore, in our case the obligation of an illustrious blood. 
With a language in compass and variety inferior to none 

10 that has ever been the instrument of human thought or 
passion or sentiment, we had inherited also the forms and 
precedents of a literature altogether worthy of it. But these 
forms and precedents we were to adapt suddenly to novel 
conditions, themselves still in solution, tentative, formless, 

15 atom groping after atom, rather through blind instinct than 
with conscious purpose. Why wonder if our task proved as 
long as it was difficult ? And it was all the more difficult 
that we were tempted to free ourselves from the form as well 
as from the spirit. And we had other notable hindrances. 

20 Our reading class was small, scattered thinly along the sea- 
board, and its wants were fully supplied from abroad, either 
by importation or piracy. Communication was tedious and 
costly. Our men of letters, or rather our men with a natural 
impulsion to a life of letters, were few and isolated, and I 

25 cannot recollect that isolation has produced anything in 
literature better than monkish chronicles, except a Latin 
hymn or two, and one precious book, the treasure of bruised 
spirits. Criticism there was none, and what assumed its 
function was half provincial self-conceit, half patriotic re- 

30 solve to find swans in birds of quite another species. 
Above all, we had no capital toward which all the streams 
of moral and intellectual energy might converge to fill a 
reservoir on which all could draw. There were many 
careers open to ambition, all of them more tempting and 

35 more gainful than the making of books. Our people were 
of necessity largely intent on material ends, and our acces- 



426 After Dinner Speeches. 

sions from Europe tended to increase this predisposition. 
Considering all these things, it is a wonder that in these 
hundred years we should have produced any literature at all ; 
a still greater wonder that we have produced so much of 
which we may be honestly proud. Its English descent is 3 
and must always be manifest, but it is ever more and more 
informed with a new spirit, more and more trustful in the 
guidance of its own thought. But if we would have it 
become all that we would have it be, we must beware of 
judging it by a comparison with its own unripe self alone. 10 
We must not cuddle it into weakness or wilfulness by over- 
indulgence. It would be more profitable to think that we 
have as yet no literature in the highest sense than to insist 
that what we have should be judged by other admitted stand- 
ards, merely because it is ours. In these art matches we 15 
must not only expect but rejoice to be pitted against the 
doughtiest wrestlers, and the lightest-footed runners of all 
countries and of all times. 

Literature has been put somewhat low on the list of toasts, 
doubtless in deference to necessity of arrangement, but per- 20 
haps the place assigned to it here may be taken as roughly 
indicating that which it occupies in the general estimation. 
And yet I venture to claim for it an influence whether for 
good or evil, more durable and more widely operative than 
that exerted by any other form in which human genius has 25 
found expression. As the special distinction of man is 
speech, it should seem that there can be no higher achieve- 
ment of civilized men, no proof more conclusive that they 
are civilized men, than the power of moulding words into 
such fair and noble forms as shall people the human mind 30 
forever with images that refine, console and inspire. It is 
no vain superstition that has made the name of Homer sacred 
to all who love a bewitchingly simple and yet ideal pic- 
ture of our human life in its doing and its suffering. And 
there are books which have kept alive and transmitted the 35 
spark of soul that has resuscitated nations. It is an old 




J. R. Lowell. 427 

wives' tale that Virgil was a great magician, yet in that tale 
survives a witness of the influence which made him, through 
Dante, a main factor in the revival of Italy after the one 
had been eighteen and the other five centuries in their 
5 graves. 

I am not insensible to the wonder and exhilaration of a 
material growth without example in rapidity and expansion, 
but I am also not insensible to the grave perils latent in any 
civilization which allows its chief energies and interests to be 

10 wholly absorbed in the pursuit of a mundane prosperity. 
" Rejoice O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer 
thee in the days of thy youth : but know thou that for all 
these things God will bring thee into judgment." 

I admire our energy, our enterprise, our inventiveness, our 

15 multiplicity of resource, no man more ; but it is by less visibly 
remunerative virtues, I persist in thinking, that nations chiefly 
live and feel the higher meaning of their lives. Prosperous 
we may be in other ways, contented with more specious suc- 
cesses, but that nation is a mere horde supplying figures to the 

20 census which does not acknowledge a truer prosperity and a 
richer contentment in the things of the mind. Railways and 
telegraphs reckoned by the thousand miles are excellent things 
in their way, but I doubt whether it be of their poles and 
sleepers that the rounds are made of that ladder by which 

25 men or nations scale the cliffs whose inspiring obstacle inter- 
poses itself bet^veen them and the fulfilment of their highest 
purpose and function. 

The literature of a people should be the record of its joys 
and sorrows, its aspirations and its short-comings, its wisdom 

30 and its folly, the confidant of its soul. We cannot say that 
as yet our own suffices us, but I believe that he who stands, a 
hundred years hence, where I am standing now, conscious 
that he speaks to the most powerful and prosperous com- 
munity ever devised or developed by man, will speak of our 

35 literature with the assurance of one who beholds what we hope 
for and aspire after, become a reality and a possession forever. 



428 After Dinner Speeches. 

IV. 

W. F. BARTLETT. 

Speech at Harvard Commencement Dinner.^ 

June 24, 18^4. 

[" On the 23rd of June the dedication of Memorial Hall, the great 
building erected to commemorate the services in the war of the Sons of 
Harvard College, took place at Cambridge. The next day was Com- 
mencement Day, and the commencement dinner was served, for the 
first time, in Memorial Hall. General Bartlett was the chief marshall 5 
of the day. ... A mid-summer's day at Cambridge is apt to be hot, 
and this day was not an exception. By the time the dignitaries have 
made their speeches, the guests are getting weary and uncomfortable, 
and the thought of the fresher air without grows more and more tempt- 
ing. It is not a favorable moment for the debut of an orator. And 10 
yet when Bartlett arose, and the first words uttered by his deep and 
manly voice were heard, and the audience became aware that they came 
from the shattered soldier whose tall and slender form and wasted face 
they had seen at the head of the procession as he painfully marshalled 
it that day, a great silence fell upon the multitude, and he continued and 1 5 
finished his speech in the midst of silence, except when it was broken, 
as it was more than once, by spontaneous bursts of cheering. When 
he took his seat, enthusiastic cheering followed, and all felt that an 
event had taken place. It is within bounds to say that it is many years 
since any speech made in New England has produced so great an 20 
effect."] 

Mr. President, — The first meeting of the Alumni around 
the table in this hall, which we yesterday dedicated to the 
memory of our brothers, is one of no common interest 
to us ; and I think I speak for all their comrades in arms 25 
when I say that the thoughtfulness which assigns to us the 
honorable duties of this day is recognized and appreciated. 
The day is not without sadness as we read the beloved names 
on those marble tablets, and yet not without gladness as we 

^ Reprinted by permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. frpm Memoir 
of W. F. Bartlett, F. W. Palfrey, 1878. 



W. F. Bartlett. 429 

reflect that whatever change of fortune may come to us as 
the years roll on, their fame is secure — immutable — im- 
mortal. We shall grow old and wear out, but they will al- 
ways keep for us their glorious, spotless youth. I was glad 
5 to hear from the lips of your distinguished orator yesterday 
such testimony to the absence of natural bitterness among the 
mass of the people of the South ; that it was due in great 
part to the energetic cultivation of hot-brained leaders for 
selfish ends. I think that the natural instinct of the people 

10 everywhere is toward peace and good will, and were it never 
thwarted by party intrigue, we should be much nearer to a 
perfect union, such as these men fought for, than we are to- 
day. The occasional fire-brands thrown in the path of recon- 
ciliation are from the hands of those who, while the battle 

15 lasted, sought " bomb-proof " positions in the rear, and they 
no more represent the fighting men of the South than the 
plundering politicians who have spoiled them represent the 
true hearts at the North. I firmly believe that when the 
gallant men of Lee's army surrendered at Appomattox 

20 (touched by the delicate generosity of Grant, who, obeying 
the dictates of his own honest heart, showed no less magna- 
nimity than political sagacity), they followed the example of 
their heroic chief, and, with their arms, laid down forever 
their disloyalty to the Union. Take care, then, lest you 

25 repel, by injustice, or suspicion, or even by indifference, the 
returning love of men who now speak with pride of that 
flag as " our flag." It was to make this a happy, reunited 
country, where every man should be in reality free and equal 
before the law, that our comrades fought, our brothers fell. 

30 They died not that New England might prosper or that the 
West might thrive. They died not to defend the northern 
capitol or preserve those marble halls where the polished 
statesmen of the period conduct their dignified debates I 
They died for their country — for the South no less than for 

35 the North. And the southern youth, in the days to come, 
will see this, and as he stands in these hallowed halls and 



430 After Dinner Speeches. 

reads those names, realizing the grandeur and power of a 
country which, thanks to them, is still his, will exclaim, 
" These men fought for my salvation as well as for their 
own. They died to preserve not merely the unity of a nation, 
but the destinies of a continent." 



V. 
G. W. CURTIS. 

The Puritan Principle : Liberty under the Law.^ 

A Speech made at the Dinner of the New England Society of the City 
of New York, December 22, 1876. 

[ " The following account, by the Rev. Edward Everett Hale, of the 
circumstances attending the delivery of the speech, and of the effect 
produced by it, appeared in the Boston Commonwealth^ Sept. 10, 1892. 

' I have said a hundred times, and am glad here to put on record 
my opinion, that at a great moment in our history George William Cur- 10 
tis spoke the word which was most needed to save the nation from ter- 
rible calamity. It was at the annual dinner of the Forefathers' Society 
of the city of New York, at Delmonico's Hotel, in 1876. That society 
embodies some of the very best of the leaders of business and of social 
life in New York, and it is the pride of . its managers to assemble on 1 5 
Forefathers' Day the very best of the leaders, who are not of New 
England blood, who represent the highest and most important interests 
in that city. On the anniversary of 1876 I had the honor and pleasure 
of representing at their dinner party Boston and the New Englander-s 
who had not emigrated. It was at the moment when the Hayes- 20 
Tilden difficulty was at its very worst. Intelligent men and even de- 
cent newspapers spoke freely of the possibility of civil war. The dead- 
lock seemed absolute, and even men perfectly loyal to the principles of 
American government turned pale as they looked forward to the issue. 
In the distinguished company of perhaps three hundred representative 25 
men, at Delmonico's, about half believed to the bottom of their hearts 

^ Reprinted by permission from Essays and Addresses. G. W. Cur- 
tis, Vol. I, p. 243. Copyright, 1894, Harper ^ Brothers, 



] 

I 



G. W. Curtis. 431 

that Mr. Tilden was chosen President. • The other half believed with 
equal certainty that Mr. Hayes was chosen. I myself had no more 
doubt then than I have now that Mr. Hayes was fairly chosen. I sat 
by a mayor of New York, a man of bigh character and level head, who 
5 told me that he had postponed his journey to Cuba that he might be 
present at Mr. Tilden's inauguration. He was as sure of that inaugura- 
tion as he was that he lived. 

' Before such an audience ^Ir. Cuitis rose to speak. Instantly — 
as always — he held them in rapt attention. It would have been per- 

10 fectly easy for a timid man or even a person of historic taste, to avoid 
the great subject of the ho\ir. Mr. Curtis might have talked well about 
Brewster and Carver, Leyden and DeKthaven, and have left Washing- 
ton and the AYhite House alone. But he was not a timid man. He 
was much more than a man of delicate taste, well-trained and elegant. 

15 And therefore he plunged right into the terrible subject. Terrible is 
the only word. He passed from point to point of its intricacies, of 
which he did not underrate the difficulty. He then used the pri\-ileo-e 
of the occasion, citing the common-sense of the conscientious statesmen 
of our race ; and he came out with his expression of his certain confi- 

20 dence that the good sense of the sons of such an ancestry would devise 
a tribunal impartial enough and augiist enough to determine the ques- 
tion to the unanimous assent of the nation. 

• He said this so clearly and certainly that he carried with him every 
man in the assembly. Almost on the moment every man was on his 

25 feet, cheering the sentiment. I know that the Mayor of New York and 
I, who had but ju5t before been absolutely at cross-purposes in our 
talk, were standing side by side, each with one foot in his chair and the 
other foot on the table, cheering and waving our handkerchiefs. So 
was every other man of the twenty guests at the table. 

30 ' Those three hundred men of mark in New York went home that 
night, and went to their business the next day, to say that a court of 
arbitration must be established to settle that controversy. In that mo- 
ment of Mr. Curtis's triumph, as I believe, it was settled. This is 
certain : that from that moment, as ever)' careful reader may find to-day, 

35 the whole tone of the press of all parties in the city of New York ex- 
pressed the belief which he expressed then, and which that assembly of 
leaders approved by their cheers. And from that moment to this mo- 
ment there has been no more talk of civil war.' " 

Mr. President and Gentlemen of the New Eng- 

40 LAND Society : It was Isaac Walton, in his Angler, who said 

that Dr. Botelier was accustomed to remark " that doubtless 

God might have made a better berry than the strawberry, but 



432 After Dinner Speeches. 

doubtless he never did." And I suppose I speak the secret 
feeling of this festive company when I say that doubtless 
there might have been a better place to be born in than New 
England, but doubtless no such place exists. \_Applause and 
laughter.'] And if any sceptic should reply that our very pres- 5 
ence here would seem to indicate that doubtless, also, New 
England is as good a place to leave as to stay in \_laughter\, 
I should reply to him that, on the contrary, our presence is 
but an added glory of our mother. It is an illustration of 
the devout missionary spirit, of the willingness in which she 10 
has trained us to share with others the blessings that we 
have received, and to circle the continent, to girdle the 
globe, with the strength of New England character and 
the purity of New England principles. \_Applause.'] Even the 
Knickerbockers, Mr. President — in whose stately and 15 
splendid city we are at this moment assembled, and assem- 
bled of right because it is our home — even they would 
doubtless concede that much of the state and splendor of 
this city is due to the enterprise, the industry, and the gen- 
ius of those whom their first historian describes as "lose! 20 
Yankees." [Laughter.'] Sir, they grace our feast with their 
presence ; they will enliven it, I am sure, with their eloquence 
arid wit. Our tables are rich with the flowers grown in their 
soil ; but there is one flower that we do not see, one flower 
whose perfume fills a continent, which has blossomed for 25 
more than two centuries and a half with ever-increasing and 
deepening beauty — a flower which blooms at this moment, 
on this wintry night, in never-fading freshness in a million of 
true hearts, from the snow-clad Katahdin to the warm Golden 
Gate of the South Sea, and over its waters to the isles of the 30 
East and the land of Prester John — the flower of flowers, 
the Pilgrim's Mayflower. [Applause.] 

Well, sir, holding that flower in my hand at this moment, 
I say that the day we celebrate commemorates the intro- 
duction upon this continent of the master principle of its 35 
civilization. I do not forget that we are a nation of many 



G. W. Curtis. 433 

nationalities. I do not forget that there are gentlemen at 
this board who wear the flower of other nations close upon 
their hearts. I remember the forget-me-nots of Germany, 
and I know that the race which keeps " watch upon the 
5 Rhine " keeps watch also upon the Mississippi and the Lakes. 
I recall — how could I forget ? — the delicate shamrock ; for 

"There came to this beach a poor exile of Erin," 
and on this beach, with his native modesty 

" He still sings his bold anthem of Erin-go-Bragh." 

lo [Applause. '] I remember surely, sir, the lily — too often the 
tiger-lily — of France [ laughter and applause ] and the thistle 
of Scotland ; I recall the daisy and the rose of England ; 
and, sir, in Switzerland, high upon the Alps, on the very 
edge of the glacier, the highest flower that grows in Europe, 
1 5 is the rare edelweiss. It is in Europe ; we are in America. 
And here in America, higher than shamrock or thistle, 
higher than rose, lily, or daisy, higher than the highest, 
blooms the perennial Mayflower. \Applause^ For, sir 
and gentlemen, it is the English-speaking race that has 
I 2o moulded the destiny of this continent ; and the Puritan in- 
fluence is the strongest influence that has acted upon it. 
\Applause!\ 
I I am surely not here to assert that the men who have rep- 

I resented that influence have always been men whose spirit 
1 25 was blended of sweetness and light. I confess truly their 
hardness, their prejudice, their narrowness. All this I know: 
Charles Stuart could bow more blandly, could dance more 
gracefully than John Milton; and the Cavalier king looks 
out from the canvas of Vandyck with a more romantic beauty 
30 of flowing love-locks than hung upon the brows of Edward 
Winslow, the only Pilgrim Father whose portrait comes down 
to us. \_Applause?^ But, sir, we estimate the cause beyond 
the man. Not even is the gracious spirit of Christianity it- 
self measured by its confessors. If we would see the actual 
35 force, the creative power of the Pilgrim principle, we are not 



434 After . Dinner Speeches. 

to look at the company who came over in the cabin of the 
Mayflower ; we are to look upon the forty millions who fill 
this continent from sea to sea. [ Applause^ The Mayflower, 
sir, brought seed and not a harvest. In a century and a 
half the religious restrictions of the Puritans had grown into 5 
absolute religious liberty, and in two centuries it had burst 
beyond the limits of New England, and John Carver of the 
Mayflower had ripened into Abraham Lincoln of the Illinois 
prairie. [ Great and prolonged applause?^ Why, gentlemen, 
if you would see the most conclusive proof of the power of 10 
this principle, you have but to observe that the local dis- 
tinctive title of New Englanders has now become that of 
every man in the country. Every man who hears me, from 
whatever State in the Union, is, to Europe, a Yankee, and 
to-day the United States are but the "universal Yankee 15 
nation." \_Applause7\ 

Do you ask me, then, what is this Puritan principle ? Do 
you ask me whether it is as good for to-day as for yesterday ; 
whether it is good for every national emergency ; whether it 
is good for the situation of this hour ? I think we need neither 20 
doubt nor fear. The Puritan principle in its essence is simply 
individual freedom. From that spring religious liberty and 
political equality. The free State, the free Church, the free 
School — these are the triple armor of American nationality, 
of American security. \Applause^ But the Pilgrims, while 25 
they have stood above all men for their idea of liberty, 
have always asserted liberty under law and never separated 
it from law. John Robinson, in the letter that he wrote 
the Pilgrims when they sailed, said these words, that well, 
sir, might be written in gold around the cornice of that 30 
future banqueting-hall to which you have alluded, " You 
know that the image of the Lord's dignity and authority 
which the magistry beareth is honorable in how mean 
person soever. " \Applause^ This is the Puritan principle. 
Those men stood for liberty under the law. They had 35 
tossed long upon a wintry sea; their minds were full of 




G. W. Curtis. 435 

images derived from their voyage ; they knew that the will of 
the people alone is but a gale smiting a rudderless and sail- 
less ship, and hurling it, a mass of wreck, upon the rocks. 
But the will of the people, subject to law, is the same gale 
5 filling the trim canvas of a ship that minds the helm, bearing 
it over yawning and awful abysses of ocean safely to port. 
\Loud applause P^ 

Now, gentlemen, in this country the Puritan principle in 
its development has advanced to this point, that it provides 

lo us a lawful remedy for every emergency that may arise. 
\Cheers7\ I stand here as a son of New England. In every 
fibre of my being am I a child of the Pilgrims. \Applause^ 
The most knightly of all the gentlemen at Elizabeth's court 
said to the young poet, when he would write an immortal song 

15 " Look into thy heart and write. " And I, sir and brothers, 
if, looking into my own heart at this moment, I might dare to 
think that what I find written there is written also upon the 
heart of my mother, clad in her snows at home, her voice in 
this hour would be a message spoken from the land of the 

20 Pilgrims to the capital of this nation — a message like that 
which Patrick Henry sent from Virginia to Massachusetts 
when he heard of Concord and Lexington : "I am not a Vir- 
ginian, I am an American." \^Great applause?^ And so, 
gentlemen, at this hour we are not Republicans, we are not 

25 Democrats, we are Americans. \Treme7idoiis applause?^ 

The voice of New England, I believe, going to the capital, 
would be this, that neither is the Republican Senate to insist 
upon its exclusive partisan way, nor is the Democratic House 
to insist upon its exclusive partisan way, but Senate and 

30 House, representing the American people and the American 
people only, in the light of the Constitution and by the 
authority of the law, are to provide a way over which a 
President, be he Republican or be he Democrat, shall pass 
unchallenged to his chair. [ Vociferous applause^ the company 
\ 35 rising to their /eet.] Ah, gentlemen [renewed app/ause] — 
think not, Mr. President, that I am forgetting the occasion 



436 After Dinner Speeches. 

or its amenities. [Cries of ^'- No, no,'^ and " Go on.^^] I am 
remembering the Puritans; I am remembering Plymouth 
Rock and the virtues that made it illustrious. [A voice — 
'■'■ Justice. '"'\ But we, gentlemen, are to imitate those virtues, 
as our toast says, only by being greater than the men who 
stood upon that rock. {Applause?^ As this gay and luxurious 
banquet to their scant and severe fare, so must our virtues, 
to be worthy of them, be greater and richer than theirs. 
And as we are three centuries older, so should we be three 
centuries wiser than they. [Applause^ Sons of the Pilgrims, 10 
you are not to level forests, you are not to war with savage 
men and savage beasts, you are not to tame a continent nor 
even found a State. Our task is nobler, diviner. Our task, 
sir, is to reconcile a nation. It is to curb the fury of party 
spirit. It is to introduce a loftier and manlier tone every- 15 
where into our political life. It is to educate every boy and 
every girl, and then leave them perfectly free to go from any 
school-house to any church. \Cries of *' Good,'''' a?id cheers. "] 
Above all, sir, it is to protect absolutely the equal rights of 
the poorest and the richest, of the most ignorant and the 20 
most intelligent citizen, and it is to stand forth, brethren, as 
a triple wall of brass around our native land, against the 
mad blows of violence or the fatal dry-rot of fraud. [Loud 
applause.'] And at this moment, sir, the grave and august 
shades of the forefathers whom we invoke bend over us in 25 
benediction as they call us to this sublime task. This, 
brothers and friends, this is to imitate the virtues of our fore- 
fathers ; this is to make our day as glorious as theirs. [Great 
applause J followed by three cheers for the distinguished speaker^ 



APPENDIX, 



SUGGESTED DISCUSSIONS AND EXERCISES.^ 

In all cases an hour of discussion of the written exercises with 
the class is supposed to precede returning them. 

PERSUASION. 

A. ARISING FROM SKILLFUL CHOICE OF SUBJECT OR MES- 
SAGE. 

1. Analyze and discuss with the class 

Booker T. Washington's Address at the Atlanta Exposi- 
tion, p. 2IO. 
Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Speech, p. 207. 
G. W. Curtis 's The Puritan Principle, p. 430. 

2. Describe an audience, non-collegiate but known to your 
students, in its relation to college life. Take, if possible, an 
audience of workingmen to whom a college education seems 
the business of the comparatively rich or for youths of excep- 
tional intellectual ability. Ask the class to select which, 
phase of college life it would present to such an audience. 
The audience frequenting Civic Clubs or Workingmen's 
Clubs in the Slums affords a good example. 

3. Discuss some of the subjects submitted with the class. 

^ For exercises and discussions to illustrate argument, see Principles 
of Argumentation, Ginn & Co., revised edition, 1904. 

437 



43^ Appendix. 

B. ARISING FROM SKILLFUL ADAPTATION TO THE PAR- 
TICULAR AUDIENCE. 

1. Analyze and discuss with the class 

Phillips Brooks's Fourth of July Address^ p. 185. 
Mrs. Browning's Letter to Napoleon III., p. 23. 

2. Let each student write a letter urging a friend to room 
with him in college, or to join his fraternity. Before he 
writes the letter, see that he carefully describes the interests, 
the peculiarities, and the prejudices of his friend, so that in 
the letter he can be on his guard against them or use them 
to increase the force of his presentation of his plan. 

3. In order to illustrate the different treatment of the 
same subject caused by different persuasive approaches to it, 
contrast for the class 

D. D. Field's The Child and the State, p. 310. 
Phillips Brooks's Address in beJialf of the Children's Aid 
Society, p. 319. 

4. Let the students select some college or local cause 
which needs aid, and work out two different presentations of 
it for two entirely different audiences. 

5. The persuasive value that mere arrangement of the 
address may have is best illustrated by careful analysis of 
Lord Mansfield's Speech in behalf of Allan Evans. Speci- 
mens of Argumentatio7i (Modern), p. 22, Henry Holt & Co. 

6. Give the class a college subject not popular, such as 
the abolition of admission fees for intercollegiate sports, asking 
them to present this favorably to their classmates, in order 
to see the value of mere ordering of the ideas in persuasion. 

7. To illustrate warding off a pervasive difficulty, a recur- 
rent objection, analyze Carl Schurz' Ge?ieral Amnesty. 
Throughout this he faced over and over the objections that 
the details of what he proposed were unjust to the negro and 
too lenient toward the South. If the class has had practice 
in recurrent rebuttal (See Frificiples of Argume?ttation), prac- 



Appendix. 439 

tice for the class following this discussion is unnecessary. If 
not, some question in regard to a plan for prescribed studies, 
to which the recurrent objection will be that it destroys indi- 
vidual liberty may be formulated. 

8. For the value of style in persuasion, discuss 
T. B. Aldrich's letter to William Winter, p. 22. 
S. Johnson's letter to Lord Chesterfield, p. 19. 
G. W. Curtis 's The Leadership of Educated Men, p. 

282. 
W. H. Seward's letter to C. F. Adams, p. 41. In this 
emphasize the persuasive significance of President 
Lincoln's changes and omissions. 
Similar material to the last will be found, in Professor J. 
H. Gardiner's The Forms of Prose Literature, pp. 316-58, in 
which J. H. Choate's An Lnco77ie Tax a Direct Tax is so 
marked as to separate what is persuasive from what is not. 

C. ARISING FROM THE SPEAKER. 

Discuss 

John Brown's Farewell, p. 247. 

Wendell Phillips's The Scholar i7i a Republic, p. 253. 
Daniel O'Connell's On Repeal of the Unio7i, p. 387. 
Booker T. Washington's Speech at the Di7i7ier of the Har- 
vard Ahcmni, p. 420. 

D. EXCITATION. 

Discuss page 154, " Great in life," etc., to the end. 

Page 194, "As if it were but yesterday," etc., to " crowns 
them with the laurel wreath," p. 198. 

Page 377, "But look at the difference" to "You may 
say," p. 378. 

Page 436, " Sons of the Pilgrims " to end. 



440 Appendix. 



PRIVATE LETTERS AND PUBLIC. 

1. The Impersonal Statement. Discuss 

W. T. Sherman's letter to J. G. Blaine, p. 3. 
Abraham Lincoln's letters to General McClellan and to 
Horace Greeley, pp. 6, 14. 

2. Let the class write a reply to a circular from the Faculty 
asking for individual statements on some college matter affect- 
ing both Faculty and students, such as unsatisfactory condi- 
tions in the refectories, the dormitories, etc. The point is to 
gain from the class a definite statement. 

3. Persuasive Letters. Discuss 
Abraham Lincoln to General Hooker, p. 16. 
Samuel Johnson to Lord Chesterfield, p. 19. 
T. B. Aldrich to William Winter, p. 22. 
Mrs. Browning to Napoleon III, p. 23. 
Emile Zola to President Faure, p. 25. 

4. Arrange a second exercise similar to B. 2. 

5. Discuss the way in which the public letter leads into 
other forms. Use 

Horace Greeley's letter to Lincoln, p. 7. 
President Roosevelt's Memorandum on the Schley Case, p. 50. 

THE EDITORIAL. 

1. The editorial which merely summarizes or summarizes 
and briefly comments. Discuss 

Editorial from The Spectator^ p. 69. 
Editorial from The Nation^ p. 69, 71. 
Editorial from The Nation^ P- 7^. 
Editorial from The New York Tribune, p. 95. 

2. Ask the class to attend some public lecture and to write 
in class a summarizing editorial of it which also comments 
briefly on what seems to the writer most important in the 
lecture. 



I 



Appendix. 441 

3. Editorial which uses irony or invective. 
Traill's Troubles, P- 72. 

Friar Tuck Legislation, p. 74. 

4. Leaders. Discuss 

Revelations in South Africa, p. 82. Partizan. 
The Proposed Liverpool University, p. 87. 
Concerning the Race Problem, p. 95. 
Northern Independe?ice, p. 99. 

5. Read to the class conflicting opinions as to some cur- 
rent or college matter. Let them think over their notes and 
at the next meeting write an editorial on this material in- 
tended to lead college opinion. 

6. Let the class try in an editorial of 500-1,000 words for 
which it must supply all the material to mould undergraduate 
opinion. 

7. The Biographical Editorial. Discuss the following, 
comparing them with the ordinary obituary notice of the 
newspapers. 

Johfi Addington Symonds, p. 103. 
Horace Greeley, p. 107. 

8. Read to the class the ordinary obituary notice of some 
person of note ; give them references, and require them to 
write in the class-room at the next meeting a biographical 
editorial. 

9. The relation of the literary editorial to the essay. 
Discuss 

27ie Odium Theologicum, p. 113. 
The Critic and Llis Task, p. 118. 

THE EULOGY. 

I. Discuss for the eulogy which reviews a man's whole 
life chronologically 

J. G. Blaine's Eulogy on President Garfield, p. 130. 



44^ Appendix. 

2. For the eulogy which selects certain aspects of a career 
for emphasis, discuss 

Wendell Phillip's Toussaint L"" Ouverture, p. 156. 
Roscoe Conkling's General Gra?tt, p. 125. 

3. Let the class, after selecting under supervision sub- 
jects for a eulogy (these should not be men often treated 
already), outline carefully their plan. Let them, for instance, 
answer the following questions : — 

I. In what place delivered? 2. To an audience of what 
size, in what kind of room ? 3. Is your audience a 
society or a group of individuals meeting only because of their 
interest in your subject ? 4. Why have you been asked to 
speak? 5. Is there any persuasive advantage or difficulty 
in the relation of the audience to your subject, or to you ? , 
6. What is your plan for developing the address? 7. Do| 
you mean throughout or at certain places to relate the work 
closely to opinions, moods, and feelings of the audience ? 
8. How do you mean to begin, and to end ? 

4. Let the writers of the best two or four eulogies read 
them to the class. Discuss these with the class in the last 
fifteen minutes of the two to four hours given to this exercise. 

AFTER DINNER SPEECHES. 

1. Discuss all the specimens in the section on After Din- 
ner Speeches. 

2. Let each student write in class a response of five 
minutes as a representative at a banquet of another college. 
He may speak for athletic, literary, or fraternity interests. 
The aim should be : something to say, selected with refer- 
ence to his audience and presented with it in mind. 

3. Let the class write a similar brief speech, but this time 
complicated by the fact that a tactless preceding speaker, 
not recognizing that a representative of the college is present, 



I 



Appendix. 443 

has slurred the institution as to its athletic methods or for 
some other reason. Shall the speaker ignore this ? If not, 
why ? How far shall he answer directly, how far indirectly ? 
Will his speech merely reply to the tactless person ? 

THE OTHER FORMS. 

The brief speech for conditions other than after dinner, 
may be studied in 

C. W. Eliot's Heroes of the Civil War, p. 173. 
Phillips Brooks's The Fourth of July, p. 185. 
Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, p. 207. 
C. W. Eliot's Welcome to Priiice Henry, p. 221. 
Abraham Lincoln's Speech to 166th Ohia Regiment, p. 

245- 

John Brown's Last Speech, p. 247. 

W. E. Russell's Address at the Democratic National Con- 
ventio?i, p. 398. 
and exercises similar to those suggested for the after-dinner 
speech arranged, but probably the forms illustrated by these 
selections will be best essayed at first when more space 
is allowed and the writing is done out of the class-room. 
When the students have gained some understanding of the 
forms in question, practice in very condensed examples of 
them will probably bring better results than would be pos- 
sible when not only a new form but great condensation are 
required together. 

As far as time permits, all specimens of the forms for 
which special exercises have not been provided should be 
studied by the class, and used by the teacher as illustrations 
for his lectures on these forms. In the class-room analytical 
exercises intended to emphasize ideas already set forth in 
the lectures on these forms should be set the class. The 
following may serve as suggestions for other exercises : — 



444 Appendix. 

1. What are the main ideas of I. and II. under " Com- 
memorative Addresses ? " Is the difference in treat- 
ment the result of the choice of topic, the audience, 
or the personality of the speaker ? 

2. Contrast the purpose, plan, and treatment of III. 
under " Commemorative Addresses " with I. under 
"Political Addresses." 

3. Under " Addresses for Academic Occasions " : (A) 
Outhne the plan of both Phillips's and Curtis's 
speeches. If you were replying to Phillips's speech, 
could you select justifiably only a part as requiring 
an answer ? To what extent does Curtis answer ? 
How far did the conditions under which Curtis spoke 
determine the treatment given his reply ? In what 
ways does the discussion differ from a debate ? 
(B) What was the persuasive problem of each ? 
How and where does he meet it ? What part does 
excitation play in each as contrasted with persuasion 
arising from choice of subject, presentation of mate- 
rial, and the personality of the speaker ? 

4. Compare and contrast III. under " Commemorative 
Addresses " and I. under " Addresses on Social 
Questions." Bear in mind the purpose for which 
they were delivered, the persuasive problem, and the 
relation of the speaker to his subject and his audience. 

5. Under '* Legislative Addresses " compare and con- 
trast problem, plan, treatment, and phrase in Lord 
Salisbury's and Carl Schurz' speeches. 

6. Under " Political Addresses " analyze the difference 
in treatment caused by the different purposes for. 
which II. and III. are given. 

7. Analyze and contrast the details of the persuasion 
in IV. under " Political Addresses " and 11. under 
" Addresses on Social Questions." 



Appendix. 445 

8. Analyze I. and II. under " Speeches of Farewell," to 
show clearly what it is which reveals the personality 
behind the speech. 
Probably the course may best close with three or four 
lectures on the importance of a large, varied, and respon- 
sive vocabulary ; on the part imagination plays in style ; 
and on the relation of the spoken to the written word. 



-X\ 



NOTES, 



NOTES.' 



4. 14. in Louisiana. In i860 Sherman was appointed Superin- 
tendent of the State mihtary academy at Alexandria. When the State 
seceded, he promptly resigned and went to St. Louis. 

6. Letter to General McClellan. For the conditions preceding this 
letter, see Abraham Lincoln, Nicolay & Hay, V, ch. 9. 

9. 3. H. Winter Davis. Henry Winter Davis was, in 1862, a ris- 
ing young W^hig politician of Maryland, the political opponent of Mont- 
gomery Blair of Lincoln's first cabinet. 

9. 3. Parson Brownlow. William G. Brownlow was for ten years 
from 1826 an itinerant Methodist preacher. He entered politics in 1828, 
Though an advocate of slavery, he opposed secession, taking the 
ground that Southern institutions were safer in the Union than out of 
it. After various vicissitudes, he was sent within the Northern lines in 
March, 1862. He then made a tour of the Northern cities, speaking to 
immense audiences. — See Amer. CyclopcBdia of Biography, I. 415. 

10. 7. John Morgan. His raids into Kentucky as commander of 
a cavalry force under General Bragg made it necessary to garrison 
every important town of the State. 

10. 8. Beriah Magoffin. Pro-Southern Governor of Kentucky. 
In reply to Lincoln's call of April, 1861, for seventy-five thousand men, 
he said that Kentucky " would furnish no troops for the wicked purpose 
of subduing her sister Southern States." 

11. 8. Fremont's proclamation. Hunter's Order. J. C. Fremont, 
as commander of the Department of the West, proclaimed martial law 
in Missouri, Aug. 30, 1861, and declared the slaves free. David Hunter, 
as commander of the Department of the South, issued. May 9, 1862, a 
similar proclamation for Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina. 

20. 35. The World. A weekly periodical which lived from 1753 
to 1757. It satirized the vices and follies of fashionable society. 
Edward Moore, author of The Gamester and Fables for the Female Sex, 
was its editor. 

21. 3. " Le vainquer," etc. Conqueror of the World's conqueror. 
21. 20,21. The shepherd — rocks. — Fclogties,^,, ^t,- 

1 The editor acknowledges his constant indebtedness for biographical data to the 
Century Dictionary . 

449 



450 Notes. 

22. i8. " Good-night, sweet Prince ! " — Hamlet, V, 2, 370. 
26. 27. base calumnies. Probably in connection with the bank- 
ruptcy of M. Faure's father-in-law. 

26. 31. Universal Exposition. In 1900. 

27. 26. Major Forzinetti. Governor of the Cherche-Midi prison, 
in which Dreyfus was confined. In November, 1897, he made public a 
statement that from his observation of Dreyfus he believed him inno- 
cent and much injured, Forzinetti was dismissed, for this statement, 
from the governorship, and subjected to grave imputations as to his 
character and motives. 

31. 26. Scheurer-Kestner. Life member and vice-president of the 
French Senate. In October, 1897, he publicly declared that he had 
proofs of the innocence of Dreyfus, and that he meant to effect his 
rehabilitation. 

31. 30. Picquart. Chief of the Bureau of Secret Intelligence of 
the French army from 1 894-1 897. 

33. 15. Marquis de Mores (Antoine Manca de Vallombrosa, 1858- 
96). He organized an expedition from Tripoli with the purpose of 
gaining for France the friendship of the Tuaregs and the Mohamme- 
dan races of Africa. He hoped through such an alliance to circumvent 
the expansion in Africa of British influence, and to make continued 
British occupation of Egypt impossible. Near Ghadames his Tuareg 
escort, tempted by the rich booty of the caravan, murdered him and 
some of his companions who took his part. — Annual Ency. (Appleton), 
1896. 

33. 20. Mathieu Dreyfus. The devoted brother of Alfred Dreyfus. 

34. 36. General de Pellieux ; Major Ravary. The first, one of 
the heads of the general staff, was in charge of the investigations into 
the accusations of Mathieu Dreyfus against Esterhazy. Major Ravary 
assisted him. 

37. 7. of the rights of man. See the motto on the seal of 
France, " Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite," Liberty, Equality, Brother- 
hood. 

46. 20. exequatur. " A written recognition of a person in the char- 
acter of consul or consular agent issued by the country to which he is 
accredited, and authorizing him to exercise his powers." — Century Diet. 

48. 8. Congress of Paris. At the end of the Crimean War, Rus- 
sia on the one side, and Great Britain, France, Turkey, and Sardinia on 
the other, signed the Treaty of Paris. After it had been concluded, 
the powers, in April, 1856, signed a declaration of principles. The first 
article of the four was : " Privateering is and remains abolished." 

51. I. Flying Squadron. Under Commodore W. S. Schley, it 
consisted of the following vessels: armored cruisers, Olympia, Balti- 



Notes. 451 

ino7'e^ Raleigh, Boston ; battle-ships Massachusetts and Texas j protected 
cruisers, Minneapolis and Cohimbia. 

51. 12. Eagle. When the Flying Squadron went from Cienfuegos 
to Santiago, it slowed down for the Eagle, which was delayed by easterly 
wind and sea. 

51. 15. Navy Department's order. Of May 25, 1898, bidding 
Commodore Schley go to Santiago to see if the Spanish fleet was there, 

51. 31. A. C. Hodgson (Lieut. Commander Albon, C). Navi- 
gator of the Brooklyn in the Santiago fight. He became involved in a 
controversy with Admiral Schley as to the famous " loop." 

52. 6, steamer Adula. A vessel flying the British flag which was 
allowed to enter the harbor in the hope that she would bring out infor- 
mation as to the Spanish fleet. She did not return while Commodore 
Schley lay off the harbor. 

56. I. the Morro. The fort commanding the entrance to Santiago 
Harbor. 

59. 6. Commander Wainwright. Of the Gloucester. 

69. 3. Sarawak is on the northeast coast of Borneo. It has an 
area of fifty thousand square miles. In 1842 it was granted to Sir 
James Brooke, with the title of " rajah " by the Sultan of Brunei. In 
1868 his nephew. Sir Charles Brooke, succeeded him. Population of 
native races, with some Chinese, about three hundred thousand. Capi- 
tal, Kuching. In 1888 the State was placed under the protection of 
Great Britain. — Univ. Cyclopcedia. 

69. 24. Commission of Exchange. In January, 1903, the Mexi- 
can ambassador and the Chinese charge d'affaires ad i7iteriin addressed 
letters to Secretary Hay, asking the cooperation of the U.S. Govern- 
ment in such measures as will tend to restore and maintain a fixed re- 
lationship between the moneys of the gold standard countries and the 
silver-using countries. Congress voted to enable the President to 
cooperate, and he appointed a commission of Exchange. 

72. C. T. Congdon. (1821-1891.) Member of the staff of the 
N.Y. Tribune, 1857-82. 

72. 19. George Francis Train, (i 829-1 904.) Promoter, lecturer, 
political speaker, famous for his eccentricities. Although at one time 
rich, he died at the Mills Hotel in New York City. George Francis 
Train bitterly opposed the abolition movement, which in Massachusetts 
was headed by Charles Sum.ner, Governor Andrew and others. His 
attacks upon them in public speeches and letters were virulent. 

74. W. C. Bryant. (1794-1878.) As editor or proprietor he was 
connected with the N. V. Evening Post from 1826 till his death. 

74. 26. Anti-Corn League. This League was formed in 1839 to 
further the repeal of the British corn laws. The laws provided a 



452 Notes. 



" sliding scale" of duty upon grain imported into the United Kingdom, 
increasing or diminishing the tariff as the price of grain fluctuated. 
The headquarters of the Anti-Corn League were at Manchester. 
John Bright and Cobden were among its leaders. 

77. 15. Columbia. The defending yacht of 1899 and 1901. 

78. 20. new measurement rules. " To extreme beam, wherever 
found, and greatest beam at load water Una, and divide by eight ; lay 
off line parallel to and this distance from line of hull on deck and take 
extreme length of hull measure on this line ; to this add length of load 
water line on vertical projection of this line to water-line plane, and 
divide the sum of three lengths so obtained by two. Multiply the 
length of a yacht, obtained as provided for, by the square root of the 
sail area, divided by five times the cube root of the displacement. This 
gives the rating measurement." — Americati Almanac, Year Book, etc., 
1903, p. 659. 

79. 6. America. On Aug. 22, i85i,the America raced the Eng- 
lish yacht Aurora around the Isle of Wight, winning the cup which in 
fifty years has not gone back to England. 

80. 2. Hay-Herran. The treaty which Colombia finally refused to 
ratify was drawn up by Secretary-of- State Hay, and Dr. Herran repre- 
senting Colombia. 

80. 6. Spooner Act. An act was passed by Congress June 28, 
1902, authorizing the President of the United States to negotiate with 
Colombia for a canal right of way across the Isthmus, It further 
authorized him, in case advances to Colombia failed, to negotiate with 
the governments of Nicaragua and Costa Rica for canal rights through 
their territories. 

81. 2. Henry Watterson. Editor of the Louisville, Ky., Courier- 
Journal. 

81. 21. treaty of 1846. In 1846 the Government of the United 
States entered into a treaty with the Republic of New Granada, then 
sovereign over the Isthmus of Panama, by which treaty it was provided 
that " The Government of New Granada guarantees to the Government 
of the United States that the right of way or transit across the Isthmus 
of Panama, upon any modes of communication that now exist, or that 
may hereafter be constructed, shall be open and free to the government 
and the citizens of the United States. . . . The United States guar- 
antee positively and efficaciously to New Granada the perfect neutrality 
of the before-mentioned isthmus, with the view that the free transit 
from the one to the other sea may not be interrupted or embarrassed in 
any future time while this treaty exists. . . . The United States also 
guarantee the rights of sovereignty and property which New Granada 
has and possesses over the said territory." 



i^ 



Notes. 453 

82. 26. Commission on the War. In September, 1902, King Ed- 
ward issued a warrant for a commission to " inquire into the military 
preparations for the War in South Africa, and into the supply of men, 
ammunition, equipment, and transport by sea and land in connection 
with the campaign, and into the military operations up to Praetoria." 

83. 5. American War. The Spanish- American War, 

83. 7. Michaiah (ben Imlah). A prophet who was consulted by 
Jehoshaphat in regard to the projected battle against the Syrians at 
Ramoth-Gilead, and for his unfavorable answer imprisoned. — i Kings, 
22 ; 2 Chron., 18. 

83. 14, 15. Lord Lansdowne. Henry Charles Keith Petty-Fitz- 
maurice. Secretary for War, 1895-1900; Foreign Secretary, 1900. Mr. 
Balfour. First Lord of Treasury and Leader of House of Commons 
since 1895 ; Prime Minister since July, 1902. 

84. 6, Milner (Sir Alfred, Baron, 1901), High Commissioner of 
South Africa, 1897. Butler (Sir William Francis), Lieutenant-General, 
British army, who held the Cape command during the Transvaal cam- 
paign, 1 899- 1 90 1. 

84. 10. Bobrikoff. The Russian Governor-General of Finland, 
recently assassinated because of his tyrannical measures in the " Russi- 
fication " of Finland. He had been given dictatorial power by the 
Czar. 

84. 18. Raid Party. Those interested in the movement to seize 
Johannesberg — Dec. 29-Jan. 3, 1895 — under Dr. Leander S. Jame- 
son. They were sent to England and imprisoned for from five to fif- 
teen months. 

84. 30. Laing's Nek. A pass in the Drakenberg, South Africa, 
where the Boers defeated the British, Jan. 28, 1881. 

84. 34-35. Orange Free State . . . left out of account. Because 
of its supposed loyalty. 

85. 12. Sir Ralph Abercromby. (1734-1801.) Distinguished mili- 
tary commander. He was in the unfortunate Dutch campaigns, 1793-5 
and 1799, under the Duke of York. Had he commanded, the results 
would probably have been very different. 

85. 15. Colonel Kekewich (Colonel Robert George). Defender 
of Kimberley for 126 days, — Oct. 15, 1899-Feb, 16, 1900. 

85. 29. veldt. A large tract of land with little or no timber. 

86. 2. Passive Resistance. Quiet refusal to pay school rates be- 
cause of their alleged injustice to Dissenters. The Government is 
allowed to distrain furniture for the amount due ; then friends often 
buy it at the auction, and restore it at once. 

86. II. General Botha's letter. Commandant-in-chief of Boer 
forces after death of Joubert. He published a letter in the London 



+54 Notes. 



Times complaining of conditions in the Transvaal since peace was 
signed. 

86. -i-},. Miss Hobhouse (Emily). An English woman who visited 
South Africa during the war in the Transvaal. She published many 
letters opposing the war, depicting vividly the suffering of Boer women 
and children. 

87. 13. Victoria University. A federation of colleges founded 
and incorporated in 1880, which grew out of Owens College, Manchester, 
England. It comprised, till 1903, besides Owens College, University 
College, Liverpool, and Yorkshire College, Leeds. 

88. 14. Marquis of Ripon, President of Yorkshire College. 
88. 23. Ramsay Muir. English scholar and writer. 

88. 34. Principal Dale. Alfred William Winterslow. Since 1900 
Principal and Professor of Classical Literature, University College, 
Liverpool. 

89. 9. Mr. Acland (Reginald). Recorder of Shrewsbury since 
1 901. Some time Regius Professor of Mathematics at Oxford Univer- 
sity. 

89. 19. Earl Spencer. Chancellor of Victoria University. 

93. 18. Mr. Patterson (Malcolm Rice). Congressman, loth Dis- 
trict, Tennessee. 

93. 25. Tillman, Money, Vardaman. The first has been senator 
from South Carolina since 1895; the second was senator from Missis- 
sippi, 1875-85 and 1893-97; the third is the recently elected governor 
of Mississippi. All are Democrats. 

95. 30. Habeas Corpus ... is good for nothing. The right of 
a prisoner to insist that he be brought before a judge, and that the 
charges be explained. The right to trial by jury. 

96. 4. Plutarch to Dr. Paley. The writer is thinking of Plu- 
tarch'' s Morals and Dr. Paley's Principles of Moral attd Political Phil- 
osophy (1785). 

96. 35. Laud. William Laud, 1 573-1645. Archbishop of Canter- 
bury. One of the foremost supporters of Charles I. Impeached by 
the Commons in 1640, he was executed in March, 1645. 

103. I. death of Mr. Symonds. He died April 19, 1893. 

105. 3. Schelling (Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von, 1775-1854). 
German philosopher. 

105. 6. Professor Sydney Colvin. Fonnerly Slade Professor of 
Fine Arts at Cambridge University. Since 1885, Keeper of Prints and 
Drawings at the British Museum. 

105. 27. Professor Tyrrell. Senior Tutor and Public Wrangler. 
Dubhn University. Editor of the Bacchce and Troades of Euripides 



Note§. 455 



105. 32. Phasthontid. The Phasthontids were the HeHdes, sis- 
ters of Phaeton, changed into poplars, and continuing to weep for their 
brother, the tears hardening into amber. 

107. E. L. Godkin. (1831-1902.) Established 7:^^ iVa//^/? in 1865 ; 
in 1882 merged it with the New York Evening Post, editing both 
thereafter. 

108. 4-5. close . . . Greeley's career. Horace Greeley died Nov. 
29, 1872. 

108. 8. Cincinnati Convention. Certain RepubHcans, estranged 
from Grant because they thought themselves ignored or because they 
genuinely disapproved of his first administration, organized as Liberal 
Republicans. Holding a convention at Cincinnati, they nominated 
Horace Greeley for the Presidency. Later the Democrats accepted this 
nomination, at Baltimore. 

108. 24. humiliating defeat. Grant, with the largest popular 
vote ever given a presidential candidate, carried 31 States, Greeley, 6. 
Grant had 268 electoral votes, Greeley, 68, 

113. 1-8. Our readers . . . considerable interest. In the Galaxy 
for October and November, 1873, Richard Grant White, author of 
Words and Their Uses, severely criticised a recent book by Dr. Fitzed- 
ward Hall, Recent Exei?iplifications of False Etymology. The temper of 
the criticism is shown by the following description in it of Dr. Hall's 
book as made up of " equal parts of bluster and blunder dissolved in 
bile, with a copious sediment of insoluble quotation." 

118. W. M. Payne. Associate editor of the Dial since 1892. 
Educator ; literary editor, chiefly of modern literature. 

118. 2. Eckermann (Johann Peter, 1792-1852). German author; 
literary executor of Goethe ; known chiefly for his Conversations with 
Goethe. 

118. 21. Marsyas. See ylfif^^, Ovid. VI, 382. 400. 

119. 34. Quarterly Reviewer. The early reviewers of the Quar- 
terly were exceedingly severe in their criticism. Their harshness is 
almost proverbial. 

125. 2. Windom, Washburne. WilHam Windom (1827-1891) was 
senator from Minnesota, 1870-81. He was a candidate for the presi- 
dential nomination in 1880 and 1884, and Secretary of the Treasury 
under President Garfield, resigning when Vice-President Arthur suc- 
ceeded President Garfield. Elihu B. Washburne (1816-1887), as rep- 
resentative from Illinois, 1853-67, bore the sobriquet, "Watch Dog 
of the Treasury," so closely did he guard the expenditure of national 
funds. He was a very efficient Minister to France during the Franco- 
German War. 



456 



Notes. 



125. lo, II. Appomattox . . . apple-tree. It was once com- 
mon belief that Generals Grant and Lee met under an apple-tree to 
consider the terms for the surrender of Lee's army. Lee was sitting 
under an apple-tree when General Babcock delivered to him Grant's 
first message, but the surrender was discussed within doors. 

125. i6. Austerlitz. Here, in Austria-Hungary, Dec. 2, 1805, 
Napoleon overthrew the Russo-Austrian army. The battle was followed 
by the Peace of Presburg. The part the Russians played in the battle 
suggested to Senator Conkling his use of the word " Cossack," two 
lines beyond this. 

126. 23-24. uttermost ends of the earth . . . uncover before 
him. General Grant went around the world between May, 1877, and 
October, 1879. 

127. 1 2. arbitration of internal disputes. Is internal a misprint for 
international? During Grant's administration existing or threatened 
complications with Great Britain, Spain, and South American nations, 
were settled by arbitration. 

127. 31. Dennis Kearney. An Irish drayman, who organized, in 
1877, a " Workingmen's Trade and Labor Union" in San Francisco. 
He devoted himself to agitation, meeting his followers weekly at meet- 
ings called, from the place, Sandlot. He urged his adherents to arm, 
talked of hanging capitalists, and uttered alarming threats. The com- 
munity became so disturbed that the national guard was called out, 
and a man-of-war sent to protect the naval docks. The legislature 
passed an act authorizing the arrest of incendiary speakers. Kearney's 
organization became a powerful factor in State politics. A journey to 
the Eastern States so relaxed his hold on his followers that his prestige 
failed, and the movement came to naught. — Cyclo. Ainer. Biog., IV, 
III. 

129. 3. threatened to bolt. On May 6, 1880, an Anti-Third Term 
Convention met in St. Louis, and among other votes, agreed that in 
case of Grant's nomination a committee of one hundred, then appointed, 
should meet in New York City, and should act in such a way as to 
carry out the purpose and spirit of the Convention. 

129. 9. jayhawkers. Strictly a member of one of the bands who 
during the early part of the Civil War carried on an irregular warfare in 
eastern Kansas. — Cent. Diet. 

130. 19. Moloch. A form of Baal, the sun-god, to whom human 
sacrifices were made. He had a bull's head, and long arms to receive 
the victims, who were lifted to an opening in the breast of brass, and 
rolled into the furnace blazing inside. — Cent. Diet. 

131. 16. revocation of edict of Nantes. This forbade, in Octo- 
ber, 1685, the free exercise of the Protestant religion. As a result, about 



Notes. 457 

300,000, including artisans, men of letters and science, emigrated. By 
the edict, in April, 1598, certain nobles and citizens of certain towns 
had been allowed freedom of worship. 

132-. 16, 17. Marston Moor, Naseby, Preston. At the first, July 
2, 1644, the Parliamentary forces defeated the Royalists. The defeat 
of the latter at Naseby, June 14, 1645, ^^^ ^^^^ decisive action of 
the Civil War. At Preston the Scotch Royalists were beaten Aug. 17- 
19, 1648. 

133. 34. Hengist and Horsa. These brothers, Jute chiefs, landed 
at Ebbsfleet about 449, and founded the kingdom of Kent. 

135. 13. President of a college. Garfield was, in 1856, teacher of 
Latin and Greek at Hiram College, Ohio (Church of the Disciples), 
and the next year, at the age of twenty-six, was chosen president of the 
college. 

137. 17. Francis Deak. (1803-76.) Hungarian politician who 
did more than any one else to establish, in 1866, the dual system of 
monarchy for Austro-Hungary, — an indissoluble federation of tw^o equal 
states under one sovereign. 

138. 20. Secretary Stanton. Stanton was Secretary of War from 
Januaiy, 1862, to May, 1868. 

140. 19-20. Trevelyan, . . . parliamentary hero. Sir George 
Otta Trevelyan published in 1 880 an Early History of C. J. Fox. 

143. 4. Wilkes, John. (1727-97.) George III hated this politi- 
cian, publicist, and political agitator because in his paper, the North 
Briton^ he had, in 1762-3, criticised the King and attacked the Dutch 
ministry. 

143. 25, 26. control . . . from the President. Clay had put 
through a bill incorporating a new Bank of the United States, but 
President Tyler vetoed it. Another bill was framed to meet the sup- 
posed objections of the President to the first, but this also he vetoed. 
Clay denounced Tyler instantly for what he called his faithlessness to 
Whig principles, — a bank as opposed to the sub-treasury system, — 
and rallied the Whig party under his leadership in opposition to the 
President. — Cyclo. A77ier. Biog., I, 640^ 

143. 35. victory . . . 1854. The passing, in 1854, of the Kansas 
Nebraska bill permitting local option on slavery for the people of the 
Territories, abrogated the Missouri Compromise of 1820, which pro- 
vided that, with the exception of Missouri, there should be no slavery 
north of 36' 30° in any part of the territory ceded by France. 

144. 10. Seward (W. H., 1801-1872). Secretary of State, 1861- 
69. Chase (Salmon P., 1808-1873). Chief-justice of the Supreme 
Court, 1864-73. 

145. 34. Lord George Bentinck (William George Frederick Cav- 



458 



Notes. 



endish, 1 802-1 848). Leader of protectionist opposition to Sir Robert 
Peel, in 1846-47. 

146. 18. Eric. Leif Ericson, 

147. 27. Mentor. President Garfield's Ohio home. 

149. II. Cowpens. In northwestern South CaroHna. Here, Jan. 
17, 1 78 1, the Americans defeated the British, 

150. 17-22. The political . . . Federal Government. Differences 
arose between President Garfield and Senators Conkling and Piatt of 
New York as to the right to make nominations to offices within the 
State. Garfield was willing to give the New York senators more than 
their share of offices, but they should not be allowed to interfere with 
or control the presidential right of nomination. On March 23, 1881, he 
sent in the name of Wm. H. Robertson, a leader of the faction opposed 
to Conkling, as collector of the port of New York. Senator Conkling 
protested, and resisted the confirmation of this apppointment. The 
Senate agreed to let contested nominations lie over, practically till the 
following December. The President then withdrew all the nomina- 
tions pleasing to Senator Conkling. He and Senator Piatt, recogniz- 
ing defeat, resigned May 16, 1881. On May 18 the appointment of 
Robertson was confirmed. Senator Conkling failed of re-election the 
following autumn. Cyclo. Amer. Biog., II., 603. 

152. 2. Bethany. This college, sixteen miles northeast of 
Wheeling, West Virginia, was established in 1841 by Alexander 
Campbell. 

154. 8. railroad station. President Garfield was passing through 
the waiting-room of the Baltimore & Potomac depot, at nine o'clock, 
leaning on the arm of Mr. Blaine, when Guiteau fired. The first ball 
passed through his- coat-sleeve ; the second entered by the back, frac- 
tured a rib, and lodged deep in the body. The avowed object of Guiteau 
was to promote Vice-president Arthur, who represented the Grant- 
Conkling faction, but really he was a disappointed office-seeker. — Cyclo. 
Amer. Biog., 603-04. 

155. 32. craving for the sea. From July 2 to Sept. 6, President 
Garfield lay ill at the White House. On the second date, as he was 
clearly losing ground, he was moved to Elberon, N. J. On Sept. 15, 
signs of blood poisoning appeared. He died Sept. 20. 

167. 8. Frenchmen come home. In 1802 Napoleon granted am- 
nesty to all emigrants except those who had taken important rank in 
the armies hostile to France. They returned in great numbers. 

169. 14, 15. Cayenne . . . chains. Napoleon restored slavery in 
Martinique and Cayenne in 1802. 

170. 6. Soulouquerie (Faustin EHe Soulouque, 1785-1867). 
Haitian slave, general, and politician ; he proclaimed himself emperor 



Notes. 459 



as Faustin I, Aug. 26, 1849. Deposed in 1858, he lived in exile till 
shortly before his death. 

175. 29. Castle of St. Joux. On an isolated mountain five kilo- 
metres southeast of Pontarlier, on the way from Neuchatel to Lausanne. 

178. 27. quaking Virginia. See p. 247. 

180. 25. Phocian. (b.c. 402-317.) Athenian statesman and gen- 
eral. Ordinarily not ranked as high as Phillips placed him. He had, 
however, something of the stoical calm of Toussaint ; and his final 
message to his son, when he was about to suffer death from his towns- 
men on an unjust accusation, resembles that of Toussaint to his son. 

185. 5. Dean. A. P. Stanley. 

187. Sesqui-centennial. At the one hundred and fiftieth anni- 
versary of the signing of the charter of the College of New Jersey, the 
corporate title was changed to Piinceton University. 

193. 6. the official representative. Mr. Long was governor of 
Massachusetts, 1880-82. 

194. 12. John Andrew. Governor of Massachusetts, 1861-66; 
one of the most active of the war governors. 

194. 27. Doric Hall. The name of the hall in the old State House 
where war flags and other souvenirs were kept. 

196. ID. callous half-breast. Myth says these female w^arriors, 
dwelling in the Caucasus Mountains, removed the right breast that it 
might not interfere with the use of the bow and javelin. 

196. 16. Libby. So called because it was before the war the to- 
bacco warehouse of a Mr. Libby. It has been moved from Richmond 
to Chicago, and is now the Libby Prison Museum. 

200. 16. Colonel Higginson (Thomas Wentworth). Minister, 
author, colonel of first colored regiment in the Civil War. 

200. 18. General Hampton (Wade). Able Confederate cavalry 
commander. U. S. Senator, 1879-91. 

201. 9, 10. The . . . Sword. The state seal of Massachusetts 
bears the motto : Ense petit placidani sub libertate qtcietem. 

202. 3. Virgil's man. According to the scholars of the Middle 
Ages, Virgil drew in the ALneid the portrait of the perfect man. 

202. II. figure of Faith. On the monument to the Pilgrim 
Fathers. 

202. 36. that war governor. John A. Andrew. 

210. I. Atlanta Exposition. The speech was delivered Sept. 18, 
1895. 

222. 13. Corporation. This consists of the President, five Fellows, 
and the Treasurer of the College. It is a self-perpetuating body, but 
all elections must be made in a joint meeting with the Board of Over- 
seers. — Harvard Catalogue^ 1903-4, 299. 



460 



Notes. 



222. 28. Overseers. Since 1865 the Overseers have been chosen 
on Commencement Day by a vote of all holders of degrees from Har- 
vard College, except members of the Corporation and officers of gov- 
ernment and instruction. No Bachelor of Arts may vote till five years 
after graduation. — Idefn, 308-10. 

228. 25. Apprehension. Before Lincoln's inauguration the press 
was full of threats of secession, revolution, plots to seize Washington, 
to prevent the count of electoral votes and the inauguration of the 
President. As a consequence of rumors of attempted assassination, 
he suddenly gave up his public progress eastward, and went secretly 
through Baltimore to Washington. Delegates of the States in insur- 
rection were occupied at Montgomery, Ala., organizing a government 
openly pledged to rebellion. 

For an interesting account of the changes made in the inaugural while 
it was ijt preparation^ see "^"1^. 319-23, III, Nicolay & Hay. For com- 
parative text, see idem, pp. 327-44. 

245, 19. bloody campaigns. Grant was on his offensive cam- 
paign against the Army of Northern Virginia under Lee. The battles 
of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania belong to this campaign. Over 
39,000 men were lost in thirty days. Sherman was making his March 
to the Sea. 

254. 15. Society was planted. The P. B. K. was founded at 
William and Mary College, Virginia, in 1776. 

255. II. Harry Vane. (1612-62.) English Puritan statesman 
and patriot. Governor of Massachusetts Bay Colony 1636-37 ; failed 
of re-election because he sided with Anne Hutchinson, who was ban- 
ished from Massachusetts in 1637 for her religious ideas; during Com- 
monwealth was with Parliamentary forces, but spoke his mind freely as 
champion of pure parliamentary government ; in 1656 was imprisoned 
four months for attacking in print Cromwell's Protectorate; in 1660, at 
the Restoration, exempted from Act of Oblivion and executed as a 
traitor. 

255. 25. Somers (John, Baron Somers, 1652-17 16). Statesman 
and jurist. Addison {Freeholder, May 4, 17 16) declared him not more 
conspicuous as a patriot and a statesman than as a person of universal 
knowledge and learning. Carnot (Lazare Nicholas Marguerite, 1753- 
1823), French politician and military leader. His activity, spirit, and 
power of organization contributed largely to the success of the French 
Revolution. 

256. 10. Charles Chauncy. Minister of the First Church of Bos- 
ton. He combated the proposed establishment of the Episcopacy in 
the Colonies. 



Notes. 461 



258. 22. Long Parliament. Sir Harry Vane, the younger (1612- 
1662) leader of the Long Parliament, and opposed to Cromwell, brought 
forward a bill in 1650 to provide for future elections to Parliament. He 
wished to reform the franchise on a property basis, to disfranchise cer- 
tain boroughs, and to give increased representation to the large towns. 
Cromwell desired supremacy of representation for the army. Cromwell 
forcibly dissolved Parliament, May 20, 1650. 

260. 7. Robert Lowe. (Viscount of Sherbrooke, 181 1—92.) Liberal 
English politician, who on the question of extending the franchise in 
1866 voted with the Conservatives. 

261. II. Governor Marcy. (William Learned, 1786-1857.) Gov- 
ernor of New York, 1833-38; Secretary of State, 1853-57. 

261. 16. Romilly. (Sir Samuel, 1757-1818.) At the age of fifty 
he began to devote himself to the repeal of the penal laws. His plans 
were not realized in his lifetime. 

262. I. Theodore Parker. (1810-60.) Beginning as a Unitarian 
minister, he becam_e the leader of an independent naturalistic society in 
Boston. He was prominent in the cause of anti-slavery, and was a 
lecturer and author. 

262. 5. Edwin Whipple. (Edwin Perry, b. Gloucester, Mass., 
1819; d. Boston, 1886.) Critic, essayist, lecturer, abolitionist. 

262. 8. treatises on free printing. Phillips was thinking of the 
Areopagitica of Milton, Williams's tract of 1646, The Bloody Tenets 
Locke's essay against renewing the press licensing act of Charles I, and 
iNIill on Liberty. 

262. II. Selden. (John, 1584-1654.) English jurist, antiquary, 
and author. Best known for his Table-Talk, pub. 1689. 

262. 14. Bancroft. (George, b. Worcester, Mass., 1800; d. Wash- 
ington, 1 891.) His History of the U J cited States, 10 vols., was in course 
of publication from 1834-74. He was Minister to Great Britain, 1846- 
49; to Berlin, 1867-74. 

262. 25. Wycliffe. (John, circa 1324-84). This English religious 
reformer, called " The Morning Star of the Reformation," in his last 
days wrote fearlessly against papal claims. He made the first complete 
translation of the Bible into English. 

262. 27-29. Luther, Melancthon, Erasmus. Luther (Martin, 14S3- 
1586). His tran.slation of the Bible permanently established the literary 
language of Germany. " Melancthon (Philipp, 1497-1560). German 
religious reformer. Collaborator with Luther. Erasmus (Desiderius, 
1465-1536). Dutch scholar and satirist. He aimed to reform, without 
dismembering, the Roman Catholic Church. 

263. 12. Professor Pierce (Benjamin, 1809-1880). University 
Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, 1833-42, Perkins 



462 Notes. 

Professor of Astronomy and Mathematics, Harvard University, 
1842-80. 

263. 18, Agassiz (Jean Louis Rodolphe, 1807-73), Swiss-American 
naturalist, geologist and ichthyologist. Professor of Zoology and 
Geology, Harvard University, from 1848 till his death. 

263. 20. Scire . . . est. " To knov^r where you may find anything 
is the chief part of knowledge." 

264. 9. Niebuhr. (Barthold Georg, 1 776-1 831.) Danish-German 
historian, philologist and critic. Lecturer at the Universities of Berlin 
and Bonn. Prussian ambassador at Rome, 1816-23. His History of 
Ro7ne, 3 vols., 181 1—32, revolutionized study of his subject. 

264. 24. Fremont campaign of 1856. (John Charles Fremont, 
1813-90.) Fremont was nominated for President by the Republican 
Party and the National American Party in 1856. The educative 
character of his campaign is indicated by his motto, " Free soil, free 
speech, freedom, and Fremont." 

264. 24. first of American scholars. Edward Everett. 

264. 30. Lansdowne and Brougham. Henry Petty Fitzmaurice, 
third Marquis of Lansdowne (i 780-1 863). He held high political offices 
during the first half of the last century. Henry Peter Brougham, Baron 
Brougham and Vaux (1778-1868). Statesman, orator, jurist, scientist. 
Lord Chancellor, 1830-34. 

264. ■^■}). Prescott (William H., b. Salem, 1796; d Boston, 1859). 
In spite of being almost blind he wrote a number of histories, especially 
The Conquest of Mexico^ 1843, ^"""^ "^^^^ Conquest of Peru, 1847. 

267. 10. letter to The London Times, John Lothrop Motley was 
living in London when the Civil War broke out. He felt the ignorance 
and prejudice of England so strongly that he wrote (1861) two long 
letters to the Lottdon Times, in which he attempted to make clear to 
Englishmen and to Europe the nature and conditions of our complex 
system of government. These letters did an inestimable service to his 
country. The more influential letter he called Tke Causes of the Ameri- 
can Civil War. See Life of Motley, O. W. Holmes. 

268. 2. triple crown on the Seven Hills. The Pope's tiara or 
crown. The seven hills of Rome. 

268. 10. Evarts and his committee (William Maxwell, 1818-1901). 
Lawyer, Senator from Nev/ York, 1885-91, Secretary of State under 
President Hayes. He was chairman of " The Committee of the Bar 
Association" during the campaign against the Tweed Ring in New 
York City in 1870-71. 

268. 17. Credit-Mobilier. This banking corporation, chartered in 
1863, reorganized in 1867 with increased capital, and undertook the con- 
struction of the Union Pacific Railroad, built largely with G^overnn[ient 



Notes. 463 

aid. In 1872 there was scandal because' it became known that some 
senators and representatives secretly possessed stock in the organization. 

268. 27, That unrivalled scholar. Edward Everett. See Life of 
Garrison, by his sons, I., 64. 

269. 8, consols. British 3% consolidated annuities. A large num- 
ber of public securities, chiefly annuities, were consolidated in 1751 by 
Act of Parliament; hence the abbreviated title " consols." 

269. 11-12. dare call themselves Whigs. Whigs are members of 
the Liberal Party in Great Britain. During the popularity of Lord 
Beaconsfield, Mr. Gladstone, in opposition, was rather hesitatingly sup- 
ported by men of his own party. 

270. I. Humboldt (Alexander von, 1 769-1 859). German scientist 
and explorer. His greatest scientific work, J^osmos, appeared in 

1845-58. 

271. 10. Wilberforce (William, 17 59-1 833). English bishop and 
statesman, who, with Pitt and Clarkson, agitated the Slavery question. 
In 1792 he carried the House of Commons measure for the gradual 
abolition of Slavery, thrown out iii the House of Lords. Clarkson 
(Thomas, 1 760-1 846). English abolitionist, pamphleteer, and agitator. 
me wrote 2i Histoiy of the Abolition of the Slave Trade. Rowland Hill 
( 1 795-1 879). Author of the Penny postal system. He published in 
1837 a pamphlet entitled. Post Office Reform. Its Importance aizd 
Practicability. Romilly. See note on 261, 16, p. 451. Cobden 
(Richard, 1804-65). Advocate of Free Trade and of peace. Chief 
supporter of Anti-Corn League. John Bright (1811-1889) Liberal 
leader and orator. Agitator in Anti-Corn Law League. 

272. 15. Pierpont . . . class-book (John, 1 785-1 866). Unitarian 
clergyman, poet, advocate of temperance, anti-slavery ideas, and other 
reforms. He published The American First Class-Book, or, Exercises in 
Reading and Recitation. His ideas on temperance and slavery involved 
him in a long controversy with some of his congregation. 

272. 16. Everett . . . States. In behalf of the purchase of Mt. 
Vernon, Edward Everett gave his oration on Washington 122 times 
between March 19, 1856, and January, 1859, with a result of ^58,000 for 
the fund. 

272. 24. earthquake scholar. R. W. Emerson. 

272. 34-35. Rantoul (Robert, b. Beverly, Mass., 1805; d. Washing- 
ton, 1852). Senator from Massachusetts, 1 85 1. Opponent of slavery. 
Beccaria (Cesare Bonesano, 1 738-1 794). ItaHan economist and pro- 
fessor in Milan. One of the earliest opponents of the death penalty. 
Livingston (Edward, 1 764-1 836). American statesman and jurist. 
Senator from N.Y., 1829-31. Secretary of State, 1831-33. Prepared 
Code of Criminal Law and Procedure, Mackintosh (Sir James, 1765-' 



464 



Notes. 



1832). Scotch statesman, who after the death of Romilly labored to 
amend the criminal law. 

275. 31. Sydney Smith (i 771-1845). English clergyman. Founder 
and first editor of the Edinburgh Review. Brilliant critic, author and 
wit. Vigorous advocate of Catholic Emancipation and Parliamentary 
Reform. 

276. 4. Bentham's (Jeremy, 1748-1832). English lawyer and phil- 
osopher. In later life devoted himself to literary and historical pursuits. 
Author of Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation. 

276. 28. the Bill for Ireland. In 1881 Gladstone carried through 
Parliament the Irish Land Act, which for the first time secured to the 
tenant remuneration for his own industry. 

278. I. Lieber (Francis, 1800-1872). In 1819 and 1824 he was 
imprisoned by the Prussian authorities for his political sentiments, the 
chief evidence against him being several songs of liberty which he had 
written. He removed to the United States in 1827. Professor of 
Political Economy in Columbia University, 1857-72. 

279. 5. Macchiavelli's sorry picture (Niccolo, 1 469-1 527). Italian 
statesman and diplomat. In his later life he devoted himself to writing 
novels and dramas treating of political subjects. His Prince, in which 
he considers the characteristics of a ruler, is his most famous book. 
" He was color-blind to morality. Few men even of his own epoch held 
such cynical, disagreeable and vulgar views of humanity." 

279. 14. commonwealth which adopts the motto. See note on 
201, 9~io, p. 449. 

280. 4. Arnold (Matthew, 1 822-1 888). The English critic and 
poet. Professor of Poetry at Oxford, 1857. 

280. 17. Beckford (William, 1 760-1844). English writer. His 
Vathek, 1784, contains the description of a" Hall of Eblis." 

281. 10. Richter (Jean Paul Friedrich, 1 763-1825). German 
writer, known especially for his Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces. 

281. 14. Fisher Ames (b. Dedham, Mass., 1758; d. 1808). Orator 
and statesman. Member of Congress, 1 789-1 797. 

281. 27. John Jays (i 745-1829). Jurist and statesman. Member 
of Congress, 1 774-1 779. Minister to Spain, 1780-82. Special minister 
to Great Britain, 1784-85. He conducted negotiations for Jay's Treaty, 
which finally settled many differences between the United States and 
Great Britain. 

283 26. Seekonk. A river which meets Narragansett Bay about a 
mile from Brown University. 

283. 29. of Barton and of Whipple. Lieut.-Col. William Barton, 
of the R.I. militia, with forty men in five whale-boats, pulled through 
the British fleet at Newport without being discovered, and captured the 



Notes. 465 

English general, Prescott. Congress bestowed on Barton a sword of 
honor and a grant of land in Vermont. Abraham Whipple, in 1778, 
placed in command of frigate Providence, bore government dispatches 
to France, running the British blockade in Narragansett Bay. He re- 
ceived the written thanks of Washington for the exploit. 

283. 30. city of the dead. Swan Point Cemetery, beside the 
Seekonk River. 

286. 19. Dr. Parr (Samuel, 1746-1825). English clergyman noted 
for his classical learning. Famed also for his conversational powers. 

286. 31. Washington Alston (i 779-1843). Distinguished Ameri- 
can artist and author. Lived in London many years. Noted for his 
conversational powers. 

286. 36. Coletand Sir Thomas More. John Colet (1466-1519). 
English theologian and classical scholar. Intimate friend of Erasmus 
and Sir Thomas More. One of the chier promoters of the new learning 
and indirectly of the Reformation. Founder of St. Paul's School. 
Sir Thomas More (147 8-1 535). English statesman and scholar. He 
originally studied for the Church, but after 1503 devoted himself to 
politics. He was Privy Councillor to Henry VIII, Speaker of the 
House of Commons, and, in 1529, succeeded Wolsey as Chancellor. 
He defended the Papacy against Luther. He was executed on the 
charge of treason because he opposed an act of Parliament vesting the 
succession to the crown in the issue of Anne Boleyn. Author of the 
Utopia. 

287. 3. triple-crowned error. See note on 268, 2, p. 452. 

287. 21. Mrs. Hutchinson (Ann Marbury, 1 590-1643). A religious 
enthusiast, leader of an Antinomian faction (extreme Calvinists who 
insisted that the sins of the elect are so transferred to Christ that they 
cease to be the transgressions of the actual sinners). Banished from 
Massachusetts in 1637. Mary Dyer (d. 1660). A Quaker fanatic twice 
banished from Mass. Colony on pain of death. As she persisted in 
returning, she was hanged on Boston Common in 1660. Giles Corey 
(d. 1692). A resident of Salem in whose presence children fell into con- 
vulsions. He was accused of witchcraft and pressed to death in 1672. 
George Fox (1624-1691). English founder of the Society of Friends. 

288. 15. slaughtered saints on Alpine mountains. In 1655 the 
Duke of Savoy deteimined to compel his reformed subjects in the 
valley of Piedmont to embrace Popery or to quit their country. Those 
who escaped the ensuing massacre fled to the mountains, whence they 
sent to Cromwell for relief. See Milton's sonnet. On the late Massacre 
in Piedmont : — 

"Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold," etc. 



466 Notes. 

288. 25-26. Molyneux (William, 1656-98). Irish scholar and phil- 
osopher. Intimate friend of John Locke. Flood (Henry, 1732-1791). 
Irish orator and politician. Entered Irish parliament in 1759 and 
English parliament later. Rival of Grattan. Grattan (Henry, 1746- 
1820). Irish orator and statesman. Entered Irish parliament in 1775, 
English parliament in 1806. Champion of Irish liberty and Catholic 
Emancipation. Duffy. Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, b. 1816. Irish jour- 
nalist and politician. Prime minister, 1871-1872. In Parliament, 1852- 
1856. enthusiasts around Thomas Davis. Thomas Osborne Davis 
(1814-1845). Irish poet and politician. He joined, in 1839, the Re- 
peal Association, within which he founded the party of " Young Ire- 
land," in opposition to O'Connell's leadeiship. 

288. 31. Pellico (Silvio, 1 788-1854). Italian poet and prose writer. 
Arrested in 1820 as Carbonarist,that is, a member of a Neapolitan secret 
society which aimed to free Italy from foreign domination. Imprisoned 
for two years at Milan. His Imie Prigioni is famous. Foresti 
(Felice, 1 793-1 858). Italian patriot. Imprisoned for conspiracy from 
1819 to 1835, when he was exiled to America. Became Professor 
of Italian in Columbia University. Maroncelli (Piero, 1 795-1846). 
Italian poet and patriot, confined for twenty years in the Fortress of 
Spielburg for writing in 1819 a patriotic hymn. 

288. 22)- Cavour (Camillo Benso, Count di, 1810-1861). Italian 
statesman. Prime Minister, 1852. Famous for achieving the unifica- 
tion of the Italian states under Victor Emmanuel in 1861. 

288. 35. Stein (Baron Heindrich Friedrich Karl, 175 7-1 831). 
Prussian statesman. As chief minister of Prussia, in 1807 he carried 
out vast systems of reform. In 1808 he was proscribed by Napoleon 
and exiled. 

289. 3. Koerner (Karl Theodor, 1791-1813). Celebrated German 
poet w^ho at twenty-two fell in the war against Napoleon. Under the 
title, The Lyre and Sword, he published some of the most spirited lyrics 
in the German language. 

289. 10. John o'Groat's (House). A locality in County Cathness, 
Scotland, near the northeast extremity of the island of Great Britain. 

289. 28. Thornton (Matthew, 1714-1804). Patriot, signer from 
New Hampshire of the Declaration of Independence. 

290. 3-4. John Jay. See note on 281, 27, p. 464. Scott (John 
Morin, 1 730-1 798). Member of N.Y. General Committee and of Pro- 
vincial Congress, 1775. Livingstones. Robert R. (1746-1813). Mem- 
ber of Continental Congress, U.S. Minister to France who, in 1803, 
negotiated the Louisiana Purchase. Philip (17 16-1778), Signer from 
New York of Declaration of Independence. William (i 723-1790). 
Brother of Philip. Member of Constitutional Convention, 1787, 



Notes. 467 

290. 19. Nathaniel Greene (1742-1786). Revolutionary general 
who distinguished himself at Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, etc. 
Succeeded Gates in command of Southern Army, 1780. Esek Hopkins 
([718-1802). Appointed commander-in-chief of American navy, 1775. 

290. 21. Scrooby. The parish in England, near Nottinghamshire, 
from which the Independents and Separatists departed for Holland. 

291. 8. George Clinton. Governor of New York, 1 777-1 795. 
Vice-President, 1805-181 2. 

292. 5. Cleon, not Pericles. Cleon died B.C. 422. He was an 
Athenian demagogue who became leader of the democratic party after 
the death of Pericles. He opposed peace with Sparta and conclusion 
of the Peloponnesian War. Pericles (495-429 b.c). Leader of demo- 
cratic party at Athens. After 444, principal minister; he secured the 
military and naval development of the state. Greatly encouraged arts 
and literature. 

292. 8. stony Memnon. Memnon was a hero of the Trojan War, 
slain by Achilles. The Greeks gave his iiame to one of the Colossi of 
Amenophis III, at Thebes. This is the vocal Memnon, so called be- 
cause the stone, when reached by the rays of the rising sun, gave forth 
a sound resembling that of a breaking chord. 

292. 20. Decus et decorum est pro patria mori. " It is fitting and 
beautiful to die for one's country." 

294. 12. bugle-note of James Otis (1725-1783). Patriot and 
orator. Prominent member of the Mass. House of Representatives. 
Especially famous for the speech referred to, delivered in Boston against 
the " Writs of Assistance." 

296. 12. Richard Henry Lee (i 732-1 794). Member of Virginia 
House of Burgesses and of Continental Congress. Introduced the res- 
olutions for independence, June 7, 1776. U.S. Senator, 1789-1791. 

296. 15. Goldwin Smith. Born 1823. English historian. Pro- 
fessor of Constitutional History, Cornell University, 1 868-1 871. Pub- 
lished Short History of England, 1869 ; History of United States, 1893. 
Now living in Toronto. 

297. 34-35. John Robinson (i 575-1625). Suspended by his bishop 
for Puritanism, he became pastor of the English Separatists' Church in 
Leyden, Holland. Laud and the hierarchy. See on Laud, note on 96, 

35' P- 444- 

298. 16. Italia fara da se. " Italy will win by her owm strength." 

299. 13. rescued New York from Tweed. William Marcy Tweed 
(1823-1878), famous in New York politics from 1852-1872. He organ- 
ized the "Tweed Ring" in 1870, w^hich appi-opriated vast sums of 
money. He was arrested in 1871 on suit brought by Charles O'Connor, 
a public-spirited lawyer, and was prosecuted till he fled the country in 



468 Notes. 

1875. H^ was ultimately brought back, and died in Ludlow Street 
jail. 

304. 22-25. Sodom's Ende, Johannisfeuer, Es Lebe das Leben. 
The End of Sodom, The Fires of St. fohn, The fay of Living. Miss 
O'Neill plays the second tragedy; Mrs. Wharton has translated the 
third. 

305. 31. Magda. The English title for Sudermann's play, //^/w^//. 
It has been played in this country by Miss O'Neill, Mrs. Fiske, Mme. 
Modjeska, and Mme. Duse. 

306. 2. Weber and Field's. A New York theatre named from its 
owners, whose burlesques of current theatrical successes made them 
famous. The partnership has been dissolved. 

306. 32. Irving Place Theatre. The German theatre in New York 
City under the management of Herr Conreid. 

310. 23. Mr. Brace (Charles Loring, 1 826-1 890). He devoted 
himself to the redemption of the criminal and pauper classes of New 
York City, becoming in 1853 the chief founder of the " Children's Aid 
Society." 

319. 18. privilege for many happy years. Phillips Brooks was 
rector of the Church of the Advent, Phila., in 1859-1861, and of the 
Church of the Holy Trinity in the same city, 1861-1870. 

333. Lord Salisbury. He was, in February, 1885, leader of the 
Opposition. On June 9th the Gladstone government resigned, partly 
because of public dissatisfaction with the lack of plan here criticised, 
and Lord Salisbury became Prime Minister. 

333. 7. Khalifa Abdullah. Khalifa means spiritual and temporal 
head of the Mohammedans, Prince of the Faithful. Abdullah succeeded 
the Mahdi in 1885. Killed Nov. 24, 1889, in battle of Om Debrisat, 
after dispersal of army remaining to him after his defeat by Lord 
Kitchener at Omdurman in September, 1888. 

333, 16. Hicks Pasha. Pasha, title of Ottoman princes, Turkish 
generals, admirals and high officials. William Hicks (i 831- 1883) was, 
in 1883, appointed to command of the Egyptian army in the Soudan 
In September, with a force of 10,000 men, he was betrayed into an 
ambush and after three days of fighting he fell in a last desperate charge 
of his mounted staff when nearly all his army had been massacred. 

334. 30. Duke of Devonshire. Secretary of State for War, 1882- 
1885. Lord Wolseley. Commander-in-chief of the Expeditionary 
Force to Egypt, 1882, and of the Gordon Rehef Expedition, 1884. 

336. 15. Arabi. Ahamed Arabi, born of fellah parents, spent his 
early youth as a laborer. He served for twelve years in the Egyptian 
army, rising from private to the rank of colonel. He took advantage 
of Egyptian discontent at foreign influence and organized a rebellion 



Notes. ^ 469 

with the cry " Egypt for the Egyptians." He became, in 1882, Minister 
of War under Khedive Tewfik, and, as autocrat, set aside Anglo-French 
financial control. The English bombarded Alexandria July 11 and 12. 
Arabi withdrew, and at Tel-el-Kebir, September, 1882, was defeated and 
captured. His sentence of death was commuted to life exile in Ceylon, 
but in 1900 he was pardoned. His revolt brought about the permanent 
establishment of British control of Egypt. 

338. 30. General Baker. Valentine Baker (1825-1887), known as 
Baker Pasha. Soldier and traveller. Summoned to Egypt in 1882 by 
the Khedive, he was made commander-in-chief of the Egyptian army. 
After the death of Hicks Pasha in 1883, he was ordered to Suakin. He 
was defeated near Tokar by a body of Osman Digna's troops in 1 884. 

339. 23. General Graham (1831-1 899). With Sir Garnet Wolseley 
as brigadier-general. 

341. 25. apostle of the Mid-Lothian campaign. Gladstone was 
elected from Mid-Lothian in 1880. He came in on opposition to the 
pro-Ottoman attitude of Lord Beaconsfield in the Russo-Turkish War. 

342, 18. Sir Evelyn Wood. He served in the Soudan Expedition 
and in the campaign of 1885. 

342. 29. Zebehr. An Egyptian governor in the Soudan, imprisoned 
by the British, 1884- 1887. 

347. 13. Earl of Dufferin. The Earl was ambassador to Turkey, 
1879-1881. While ambassador he went to Egypt, after the rebellion 
of Arabi, to restore order. 

348. 27. rights of the Suzerain. In 1841 Mehemet Ali was recog- 
nized under a guarantee of the powers of Europe as Vali, and the sov- 
ereign power was made hereditary. From 1879 two controllers-general, 
one French, one English, had the right to investigate all departments of 
public service and an advisory voice in the councils of the Cabinet. 

348. 31, position which the Powers are taking up. This refers 
to the attitude of the Powers, Germany, France, Austria, Italy, Russia, 
in raising the question of freedom of the Suez Canal in time of war and 
pointing out that Lord Granville, Secretary for Foreign Affairs, had 
expressed an opinion favorable to an agreement on that subject to be 
adopted and enforced by consent of the Powers of Europe. 

351, 32. Osman Digna. (1836- ) Said to have been born at 
Suakin, also at Rouen. Father a Scotchman. In slave-trade, as was 
his step-father. Follower of the Mahdi, Captured in January, 1900, 
and sent as prisoner to Rosetta. 

357. 30. besom. A broom-shaped bunch of twigs. 

358. 18, Horrors of San Domingo. See p. 173, 

364, 14. Ku Klux outrages. The Ku Klux clans were southern 
whites organized for intimidation and terrorism of the negroes in the re- 



470 . Notes. 

constructed states, 1866-71. Their object was to prevent the exercise 
of poHtical rights by the negroes. Their means were whipping, mu- 
tilation and sometimes murder. — Digest of U. S. History. 

367. 24. Absalom . , . treason. II Kings, 13-18. 

369. 33. Andrassy ... in 1849. Gyula (Julius) Andrassy (1823- 
1890), Hungarian statesman. Took part in Hungarian insurrection in 
1848; remained in exile till 1857 ; reentered Hungarian Diet in 1861 ; was 
Premier, 1867-71, and Minister of Foreign Affairs of Austria-Hungary, 
1871-1879. 

373. 9. General Longstreet. (James, 1 821-1903). He served in 
the Confederate army as brigadier-general and major-general, and was 
included in the surrender at Appomattox. After the War he became a 
Republican. He was made Surveyor of Customs at New Orleans, 
under President Grant, and later Supervisor of Internal Revenue. 

379. 27. amendment . . . proposed. The purpose of this amend- 
ment, in several sections, was to secure equal civil rights for the colored 
race. Ringwalt's American Oratory. 

387. Daniel O'Connell (1775-1847.) Lawyer, patriot. He brought 
about Catholic emancipation in 1829, As a public speaker he was 
almost unsurpassed in his day. He devoted himself to repeal of the 
union of Ireland and England. 

389. 18. Tara. Famous in early Irish history as the residence of 
kings. Every third year, at the beginning of November, a sort of parlia- 
ment met here, at which all the nobles and principal scholars of Erin 
instituted new laws, renewed or extended old ones, and examined, cor- 
rected, and compared national annals and the history of the country. 

390. 23. highest authority. Sir Robert Peel, Prime Minister. 

391. 14. In the face of Europe . . . America. "In the presence 
of I proclaim." He names France because of her recent efforts for 
parliamentary government, and Spain for her overthrow of Espartero, 
seep. 395,1. 29. 

395. 1 5. Ribbonmen. The Ribbon Society was a secret Irish organ- 
ization, very powerful in 1835-55. It was a defensive or retaliatory league 
organized for self-protection by small farmers, laborers, shopkeepers, 
artisans and others. It was vigorously denounced by the Catholic 
clergy. 

395. 30. Espartero. (i 792-1 879.) Spanish general and states- 
man. His practical dictatorship, 1841-43, was marked by energy and 
ability. In 1843 a combination of parties naturally inimical to each 
other, and the Regent and her devotees, overthrew his government, 
driving him into exile. 

396. 21. dirty Sugden. (Eward Bartenshaw. First Baron of St. 
Leonards.) Lord Chancellor of Ireland, 1834-35 and 1843-46. He 



Notes. 471 

■was one of the most persistent and shrewd of the opponents of the 
Reform Bill. 

399. 19. override precedent . . . sovereignty of states. By long- 
established custom Democratic conventions have accepted unanimously 
as temporary otificers the nominees of the National Committee. In 
this instance the gold-standard majority of the Committee presented 
the name of ex-Governor Hill, of N.Y. The Silver minority offered the 
name of Senator Daniel of Va., who was chosen by a vote of 556— 
349. This vote showed that the Silverites lacked 48 votes of the 
two-thirds majority necessary for choice of platform and presidential 
candidate. At the evening session, July 8, the Bryan delegation from 
Nebraska, excluded by the National Committee, was admitted, and the 
seats of four Gold delegates from Michigan were given to contestants, 
a sufficient number, by the unit rule, to throw the whole vote of the 
state into the Silver column. 

400. 26. one false note. Geo. Fred Williams, delegate at large, 
favored W. J. Bryan and the platform of the Convention. 

401. 13. Senator from South Carolina. Senator Tillman. 

407. 9. Calabrians. The people of the southwest peninsular of 
Italy. 

421. 17. Shaw and Russell and Lowell. Robert Gould Shaw 
(1837-63). Harvard, i860. Colonel of the first negro regiment, 54th 
Mass. Killed at Fort Wagner, May 11, 1863. Cabot Jackson Russell 
(1844-63). Harvard, 1865. Left college, Jan., 1862. Captain in the 
54th Mass Volunteers. Killed at Fort Wagner, May 11, 1863. Charles 
Russell Lowell (1835-64). Harvard, 1854. Colonel commanding a 
brigade under Sheriden. Killed at Cedar Creek, Va., Oct. 19, 1864. 

423. 5. Psalmist's measure. FsalmsXxc, 10. 

427. II. Rejoice, etc. Ecdesiastes, id, (). , 

428. W. F, Bartlett. (1840-1876.) He graduated at Harvard in 
1 86 1, was a brevet major-general in the Civil War, and was conspic- 
uous for his gallantry in action. 

428. 29. those marble tablets. On marble slabs set into the walls 
of the transept of Memorial Hall are the names of Harvard graduates 
in the Union army who died in the Civil War. 

429. 5. distinguished orator yesterday. C. F. Adams, at the ded- 
icatory exercises of the new ^lemorial Hall. 

430. 20. Hayes-Tilden dif&culty. The electoral vote of several 
states was in dispute. An Electoral Commission decided all the con- 
tested cases in favor of R. B. Hayes, but his final vote was only 185 
to 1 84 for S. T. Tilden. 

431. 12. Brewster and Carver, Leyden and Delfthaven. Brewster 
(William, 1 560-1644). One of the founders of Plymouth Colony. 



47^ Notes. 



Carver (John, 1 575-1621). First governor of Plymouth, 1620-21, 
Leyden. Residence of Pilgrim fathers, 1609-20. Delfthaven (Delf- 
shaven). Seaport in Holland where the Pilgrims embarked for South- 
ampton. 

432. 31. land of Prester John. A fabulous Christian monarch be- 
lieved, in the 12th century, to have made extensive conquests from 
the Mussulmans, and to have established a powerful empire somewhere 
in Asia, beyond Persia and Armenia. 

434. 28. John Robinson. See note on 297, 34, p. 467. 

435. 13. most knightly . . . gentleman. See Sir Philip Sydney's 
Astrophel and Stella, Sonnet r : — 

" Foole, said my Muse to tne, looke in thy heart, and write." 



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